All You Need is Love
by Li'l Yahiko
Summary: A heartsick, alcoholic Christian is all but enjoying his new fame as the writer of The Moulin Rouge, when an accidental meeting with a strange boy leads him to a Satine lookalike who's given up on love. Christianoc
1. Introduction

_**All You Need is Love**_

(Moulin Rouge and all related characters are property of Baz Luhrmann, Craig Pierce, and err… everyone else.)

INTRODUCTION

In store windows everywhere, there is a book entitled _The Moulin Rouge_. It is a story… about love. It is a story that almost everyone knows. It taught people how to believe in the principles of truth, beauty, freedom, and that which is above all things, love. It was the story that made people laugh. It was the story that made people cry. It was the story of my life.

I found it unfair to my readers that I hadn't published a single thing since that story… but it seemed there wasn't anything left within me… The only thing I could ever think about was her… Satine… the woman I loved… the woman I lost… the woman that the story about love starred.

I constantly found my self singing our song barely above a whisper. I did all I could to keep her sad memory from my mind, drinking until I couldn't even stand up. I would then sleep, and I would dream about her… It was all so hopeless. It seemed my life would never take a turn for the better… until one fateful day… when an obsessed fan of mine… ran into me on the street…


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The morning sun slipped into the city of Montmartre, waking its residents no matter how jovial or miserable they were.

One of the more miserable residents was myself, I'm too sorry to say. The sun was not a welcome being to my bloodshot eyes and pounding head. I, of course, felt ill from my rather large consumption of Absinthe the night before, but I knew I needed to get up and have what was called "hair of the dog that bit me" so that I could recover and once again sit at my typewriter and attempt to write another story to sell to the presses. After all, a man has to eat.

I slowly rose into a sitting position, feeling dizzy, as I placed my two bare feet on the floor. As I rubbed my shoulders in an attempt to destroy the pains I had gained from the way I had slept, I realized that I had once again fallen asleep with my pants and suspenders on… and that was it. It seemed I was missing my shirt, but I could see it hanging on the doorknob out of the corner of my eye.

I stood, moving my head from side to side and popping my neck, then fiddled through a rather large group of bottles that I had acquired over the month. The clinking noise as they were bumped against each other aggravated my already pounding head, but I kept on, letting a yawn escape from my mouth.

There was only one bottle with anything in it, and it was only a small bit in the very bottom. It would have to do, and I would have to go and buy some more.

I chugged down what little was left, then set the bottle back in the group with the others.

_Come… what… may… _The words entered my head immediately after my headache subsided. I shook my head to destroy the thought, but it was still there in the back of my mind. I figured that was as close as I was getting to forgetting until I could get some more alcohol to numb it.

Standing once more, I trudged across the room and snatched up my shirt. After all, there was no time like the present. I let my suspenders hang around my knees as I pulled my shirt on, buttoned it, then tucked it into my pants. I replaced my suspenders and put on my jacket and hat. Afterwards, I slipped on my black socks and shoes.

I wondered if I should shave, realized that I didn't have the tools necessary to do so, and left my room to head out onto the streets, one of the places I preferred to avoid now with the prostitutes calling to me until I pulled my pockets inside out and the smell of smoke all around.

I slammed the door behind me, locking it with my key and shoved my hands into my coat pockets.

-

Despite it being early, the streets were already filled with people. It all seemed fairly quiet, but that was all because I no longer heard singing as I walked. I had no music left within my soul, much less words. It seemed that the crowd looked fairly nice today. I hadn't been out in a month to tell the truth, so I hadn't discovered the change in quite a few of the residents of Montmartre. There was a new glimmer within their eyes, one that reminded me quite a bit of the bohemians that used to live above me before they went traveling around Europe performing their hit play, _Spectacular, Spectacular!. _

Ah, that play was the story within my story, one deathly similar to the real events taking place. Satine had been the star of the play as well, but after she died, the woman, Nini, took over her part, and the Argentinean was reassigned to his part as the penniless sitar player. Last time I had heard from them was with a letter from Toulouse about four or five months ago. He had said that the play was doing well, but it lived up to its title much more with myself at the end and Satine as the star. I didn't respond. I was angry for him mentioning Satine.

Suddenly, just as I realized that I wasn't paying attention, I was nearly bowled over by a person that was only up to my neck in height.

"Sorry! Oh, so sorry! Oh, I'm sorry!" A youthful squeak of a voice said, stumbling back.

I caught my hat in my hands, and looked down to see whom had been relentlessly apologizing.

He was a young boy with slicked back golden hair and dressed in a brown pair of pants, a brown jacket, a white button-down, suspenders, and a brown bowler hat. His hands were smacked together in a praying position, and he was still stammering out one apology after another.

"Relax, relax," I said defensively. "It's all right."

He stopped mid-sentence and glanced up at me, his blue eyes wide and sparkling. "It… It's YOU!" He exclaimed.

"Me?" I questioned, scratching the back of my neck.

"You grew a beard, but you can't fool me!" He cried. His accent was very heavy. "It's YOU!"

I stepped back a little, somewhat startled.

"You wrote it! You wrote _The Moulin Rouge_!" The young boy, who couldn't be any older than fifteen, seemed giddy with excitement. I, myself, wasn't too pleased to be recognized. I found it incredible that he even COULD recognize me. I found it my business to ask.

"How did you-"

"The description of yourself in your book," He said, rather matter-of-factly. "I've memorized it."

Now, there was an astonished feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was also a bit perturbed that a young boy would memorize a book. That seemed a bit obsessive.

"I read it whenever I get the chance, " He said, reaching into his coat. He then truly shocked me when he removed a copy of the novel and held it up, pointing at it gleefully. "It's my favorite story! I'm a true bohemian spirit!"

This was my cue to walk away.

"Hey! Wait! Where are you going, Christian? Wait!" The child was persistent, I would definitely give him that. He stumbled up next to me and began walking fast along beside me. "My name is Scott L'opale. I'm a Bohemian Revolutionary who stands for truth, beauty, freedom--- and above that which is above all things, love!" He wailed out rather loudly in his shrill tenor voice.

"Would you keep it down?" I cried, turning and heading back towards my home. I could go buy drinks later.

"-but-- I'm one of the Children of the Revolution!" He cried.

"The Children of the Revolution aren't here anymore," I said, but it seemed that he had completely disregarded that fact.

"I'm going to fix that," He said suddenly, making me turn my head to stare at him.

"You're just a kid," I said, heading towards my door. I was getting rather sick of the boy trailing me. I was looking forward to bidding adieu and slamming the door in his face.

I unlocked my apartment's entrance and stepped inside, but as I proceeded to close the door, the boy slipped past me and ran in.

"Wow! Is this your house?" He asked, a glimmer in his crystal-colored eyes. "It's just as you described! Here's the table where you wrote _Spectacular, Spectacular, _this is the balcony area where you came up with "Come What May", and this is the bed that you and Satine made-"

"All right, out you go," I interrupted, glaring at him. "I don't remember inviting you in."

"Oh…. Sorry…" He said sadly, but seconds later, he was his perky self again, smiling his pearly whites at me. "Oh, wow! That must be the elephant!" He cried, running over to the window and climbing onto the table to see better, thus getting his footprints over all my work. That wasn't what really bothered me, for I would probably throw all of that away too. "That's where you gave the pitch to the Duke! -and---and!…" His eyes sparkled once again.

I was cracking the knuckles in my fist in aggravation. How dare he just waltz into my house, climb on my furniture, and bring back memories that I'd prefer to forget!

"Oh, wow! This is incredible! Truly, truly incredible! You won Satine over in there by singing her that song!"

I opened my mouth to say something, particularly 'get out', but he interrupted me before I could say a word.

"**_MY GIFT IS MY SONG-- and this one's for you! And you can tell everybody-- that this is your song!_**" He sang.

Now, it wasn't that it was bad…. Actually it was, but his maturing voice was an excuse for that. It was the fact that he was singing that song in particular that made me grab him by the back of his suspenders and start carrying him to the door.

"Wait, wait!" He squealed, looking up at me. "Please! I just wanted to ask you some questions!"

I let go of him and let him stand in front of me. Truly, I was still a bit of a softy.

"Um…" He glanced to his right. "Wow, that's a lot of bottles."

"Questions," I reminded, making him turn back.

"Oh, yeah," He said. "Will you…. COME TO MY HOUSE!"

"What?" I asked, taken aback.

"I'm inviting you to dinner… Will you come?" His bouncy, rather loud aura had diminished to almost nothing. "I want you just to come and have dinner, so you can help me…"

"Help you with what?" I asked.

"I… I want to become a writer, like you… and-and- My sister is a great cook! She'll make us a great dinner, I promise!"

"A… a writer like me…?" I questioned. I knew that he liked my work but--

He rubbed his arm uncomfortably and glanced around, occasionally regaining a spark or two in his eyes when he noticed something from the book.

"Well, I…" I muttered, feeling obligated.

"GREAT! Let's go to my house!" He said, grabbing my wrist and dragging me out the door.

"Wait!" I cried, but he ignored it, giggling like an adolescent girl. There was no stopping him, quite obviously… I supposed it didn't matter all that much. I was getting a free, warm meal for the first time in at least months. Plus, the lad was counting on me to help him. I couldn't let him down, and so I decided that I would spend dinnertime at Scott L'opale's house.

Little did I know what I would find when I arrived.

(A/N: This is my first Moulin Rouge fanfic, and it's also my first fanfiction based on realistic things instead of cartoons. I'm going for making it exactly like the movie by putting singing in it and making it from dear Christian's point of view. I figure I won't get very much attention on this story, but if you read it, I hope you enjoyed it.)


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The two of us walked down the street, Scott in the front, and me in the back. I hung my head slightly, sighing.

(This is how all music scenes will be, FYI.)

Christian:

Yesterday my life was in ruin

Now today I know what I'm doing

Got the feeling I should be doing all right…

Scott smiled at the people on the street, reached into his coat, and pulled out a dirty pile of parchment with typing all over it.

Scott:

Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?

It took me months to write, will you take a look?

Based on a novel by a man named Christian

And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer,

Paperback writer!

Christian:

She had a dream,

And boy it was a good one

So she chased after her dream

With much desire…

But when she got to close

To her expectations,

The dream burned up,

Like paper in fire…

Scott turned and walked backwards, beaming at me. "What's the matter, Monsieur Christian?" He asked. "It's a beautiful day out! The birds are singing---" He ran over to me and after running around me, put his arm around my waist (after all he wasn't tall enough to walk with his hand on my shoulder without looking strange). "-and you get a free meal!"

I stared at him for a moment as he continued grinning up at me.

Scott:

Better weather, pull yourself together

Don't be catching the blues

Better weather, pull yourself together

What have you got to lose?

Scott began rushing off, and I hurried after him.

Christian:

I'm only paying my dues…. !

Satine's voice:

Come what may….

I will love you… until my dying… day…

How would I know what was to happen to me? There was a lot ahead of me, and I wasn't even aware of just how much…

All that was on my mind at that moment was a warm, tasty meal and my curiosity about Scott L'opale's sanity.

-

His home was just like any other family's. It was tall with large windows and a door, tightly squeezed in along a line of other houses and had a black, barred fenced surrounding its small yard.

"Come in, come in, Monsieur Christian!" Scott said as he opened the door and allowed me to walk in first.

The inside of the house was decorated in a warm pink, red, and gold style with dark oak floors. There was a piano near the window, and a fireplace on the left wall that was decked out in curtains and held a mirror above it. There was a lot of cushy furniture that matched the room, and there was a vase with a flower in it on the table in the left corner. I didn't particularly like it, for it reminded me quite a bit of the Moulin Rouge and the elephant.

"I never really like our house until I read your book," Scott said admiringly, glancing over his shoulder. "Would you like to wash up?"

"S-sorry?" I questioned. I hadn't been paying attention.

"Would you like to wash up? You know, shave, clean yourself?" He asked innocently. "You don't want to come to dinner looking like you just got out of bed do you? Besides, in a little while, I want to take you out to show you something!"

"Well, I don't-" I began.

"Great! Let me show you to the bathroom!" He cried, pushing me up the stairs. "You can use my shaving kit! I've never used it before, but someday I will!"

I found bits of his information a tad pointless, but I supposed if I could clean up too along with a free meal, then listening to his piping voice would be bearable. It was also quite difficult letting an adolescent tell me what I could and could not do, but at least he was nice about it, and so, I decided to make myself presentable.

As the two of us reached the top of the stairs, he opened up a bedroom door that seemed to hold three people by the large double bed against the wall and the one single bed in the corner. I took a peek in and noticed a table right next to the door where a typewriter sat, and across from the single bed on the other side of the room was a doll house.

"Joseph! Margaret! Are you in here?" asked Scott, still smiling. It amazed me how long the boy could keep that grin on his face without his jaw hurting.

A small, blonde-headed boy came walking from the right side of the room. His hair looked as if it had been cut with a bowl, and he was dressed in a navy sailor suit with a white shirt underneath. He couldn't have been any older than seven, if that much at all. "Where have you been?" He asked rather sternly.

"I-"

"Our sister told you to stay here and watch us," He crossed his arms and glared at him. "You said you were going to wash up, but I went in there, and you weren't there, and you're still all dirty and… YOU BROUGHT A STRANGER INTO THE HOUSE!"

A tiny little girl with bright eyes of the same color as her brothers toddled out from the same area the little boy had come. She was dressed in a matching sailor dress with her bright red ringlets braided on each side of her face. She looked to be only about two.

I tried to give the children my best smile. "Scott invited me to dinner," I said, "I'm-"

"Joseph! This is the one who wrote _The Moulin Rouge_! This is Monsieur Christian!"

"Cwistian?" The little girl asked, blinking innocently up at me. The way she talked reminded me quite a lot of Toulouse, and for some reason that brought a smile to my face.

"A-HA! So you did leave the house!" Joseph cried, pointing accusingly at Scott. "I'm telling our sister."

"No! NO!" He cried, dropping to his knees and placing his hands in prayer as he did when we had first met. "Please, I'll tell her myself, but this is my one and only dream to actually be able to talk to the author of the best book of the century!"

"Well, of course," Joseph said smartly. "The century just started."

"That may be true, but if you could read like I can read, you would know just how great it is!"

"I don't have to. You recite enough lines from it that even _I _have it memorized."

"Ah- that is not true!"

Joseph crossed his arms and smirked. "The Moulin Rouge… a night club, a dance hall and a bordello… ruled over by Harold Zidler…. a kingdom of nighttime pleasures… where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld… and the most beautiful of all these was the woman I love… Sa-"

"All right, that's enough!" I cried.

"How'd you know that?" Scott wailed, wide-eyed.

"You sometimes have the tendency to read out loud," Joseph said, turning around. "Come on, Margaret. We'll go play with your dolls." He took her hand and led her back into the room.

"Dows," She said, giggling.

Scott sighed and glanced up at me. "It's so embarrassing… My six-year-old brother can outwit me… Let me show you to the bathroom…"

-

Scott entered the bathroom, me behind him. There was a desk with a mirror, wash tub and vase right in front of us. On the left of that was a bath tub. "Let me get you a towel and my kit!" He said, smiling once again and digging in the closet across from the tub.

"_My gift is my song…_" He sang barely above a whisper as he gathered the suggested supplies. "_-and this one's for you…and you can tell everybody… that this is your song…It may be quite simple but… now that it's done…_"

When he wasn't singing so loud and trying so hard, he actually sounded quite good. In fact, for a moment, I lost myself in my own lyrics.

"_I hope you don't mind… I hope you don't mind…That I put down in words…_" I sang, completely oblivious to the fact of what I was doing.

Scott froze and glanced up at me. I was staring off into space as I finished it. "_How wonderful life is… now you're in… the world…_"

"Wow…" Scott said, snapping me back into reality. "You're better than I imagined you."

I couldn't say anything. Scott shoved the towel and kit into my hands. "Now I'll go find you a suit to wear! I'm sure you could fit in one of my dad's old outfits!"

And he was gone.

I turned on the bath and began to undress. This day was turning out to be better than a few… At least I didn't spend the entire day drinking like usual.

-

I was standing in my underwear, halfway done with shaving my beard, when Scott burst in uninvited.

"SCOTT!" I cried, backing up against the wash basin area with shaving cream on half of my face.

"What?" He asked innocently. "Here," He handed me a navy suit, very similar to the one I had worn a year ago. It looked much cleaner and much newer than the suit I had worn on the way. "I've got to go put Margaret down for a nap. See you in a few minutes."

He was gone again.

I turned and started to shave the rest of my beard off. I'd almost forgotten what I'd looked like without it, and not to gloat, but I looked so much more attractive without it (A/N: He does! ). I rubbed my chin to assure myself that I was finished after cleaning off the spare soap. Then, I proceeded into dressing into the suit he had left me.

Scott entered almost immediately after I had finished, beaming his usual smile. "There we go! I finally succeeded in putting her down! Thank God, my sister came home and helped me."

"Your sister?" I questioned as I ran my fingers through my hair to fix it up a bit.

"Yeah, she's out in the back now. Come on, I'll have you two meet! By the way, you look fantastic!"

He grabbed my wrist, and we were off again, down the stairs and out the back door.

"Let go of me!" I demanded, finally managing to wrench my wrist away from him.

"Honestly, Scott!" A woman's voice suddenly drew my mind away from my wrist. I… knew that voice… "I thought I told you to clean up all the toys out here."

"-but they're not my toys!" He whined.

The woman was dressed in a blue, velvet traveling outfit which included a long skirt, and a jacket with gold trim around the folds. She had on black, button-up boots under the skirt, and there was a hat pinned up on her head, also pinning her hair up.

"I know very well they're not your toys, but Margaret is too young to know any better about picking up her dolls," she said, hurrying past us as she entered the house.

"She's a bit… rushed… She can be a bit eh-eh, if you know what I mean…" He said, slashing his finger across his throat. "Come on."

-and I was dragged back into the house and into the parlor, right in front of the door where the familiar voice stood, fiddling with the pins in her hair.

"How was work?" Scott asked.

"Horrible as usual… Scott, you should get the job. I'm so much better at taking care of your brother and sister."

"Yeah, well, I already told you. I'm in the process of getting that done. When I'm finished, we'll have more money than we'll know what to do with."

"You haven't told me about this 'job' yet. It better not be shady business."

I could see her ruby lips out from under the shadow of her hat.

"Eh-he, it's not!" He said, blushing. "Oh! I need to introduce you to someone!"

"Who is it?" She asked, finally removing her hat.

I felt my breath catch in my throat.

Long, red ringlets tumbled down and landed around her shoulders, and her deep, saddphire eyes glanced up through thick, perfect eyelashes. Her thin, porcelain face was painted with blush and lipstick and dark eye-shadow.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and my breath had begun to speed up.

"Selene, this is the writer of the book! This is Monsieur Christian!" Scott cried.

She turned and looked into my eyes. "How do you do?" She said politely.

I fainted.

(A/N: FYI, I don't own the songs "Doing All Right" by Queen, "Paperback Writer" by The Beatles, "Paper in Fire" by John Mellancamp, or "Make It" by Aerosmith, though I did have to do a bit of editing to make it fit into the story, as I'm sure you've noticed. If anyone has a suggestion for a song they think would fit in here, I'm open for suggestions, but I can do fine on my own. If you would please, leave a review. I would be most grateful! BTW, in case anyone's confused, the only difference between Satine and Selene physically is that Selene's hair is much, much shorter. )


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_"You've got to go on, Christian…"_

_"I can't go on without you…"_

_"You've got… so much… to give… Tell our story, Christian…"_

_"No…"_

_"Promise me… promise me…"_

_"N-no…"_

_"I'll always… be with you…"_

_"Christian… Christian…-Chris_tian… Christian…"

I felt reality closing in on me, more thankfully than unfortunately… Someone was calling my name.

"Christian! Oh, no, he's dead!" Scott's voice.

"Oh, please, no one can just drop dead like that. Besides, he's still breathing!" Joseph's voice.

"Bweathing," Margaret.

"Oh, come on, Monsieur Christian! How come he just fell like that, huh?"

"Maybe he was overwhelmed by your constant talk," Joseph said.

"Do you really think that! No! NO!"

I opened my eyes slightly, and a blurry figure of the parlor ceiling and three faces started to come into view.

"MORNING!" Margaret cried.

"Not now, Margaret," Scott said, glaring at Joseph. "No, I couldn't have made him pass out."

"He's awake," Joseph said smartly.

"Ah-" He froze with his index finger in the air, then turned to me and stared in surprise. "Monsieur Christian! You're awake at last!"

"Sa… Satine… Where---"

"Satine?" Scott asked. "What about her?"

"All right, I've got a wet cloth to wipe his forehead with, Scott, now explain to me on how you met him and why you weren't at home watching--- Oh…"

Satine! She was standing there with a wet cloth in her hand, staring at me. I stumbled onto my feet, but had to sit down because I was still overwhelmed. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. "Sa… Sa…"

"You shouldn't get up so fast. You'll pass out again," She said, handing the cloth to me.

"I didn't get to introduce you properly, Monsieur Christian! Selene! This is Monsieur Christian! He wrote that book I've told you about!"

"The book that you told everyone about," Joseph said. Scott glared at him again, then smiled again.

"Monsieur Christian, this is my sister, Mademoiselle Selene!"

"S… Selene…?" I questioned. Surely that was a mistake. This was Satine, the woman I loved! She was standing there before me, her big, dazzling, blue eyes sparkling at me. "No."

"No?" She questioned. "Excuse me?"

"Monsieur Christian, what's wrong?" Scott asked.

"May I… speak to you in private for a moment, Scott?" I asked, smiling rather frantically.

"SURE!" He said gleefully.

"All right, come along you two," Satine said, leading the children from the room.

"What's the matter, Monsieur Chris-"

"Is this some sort of sick game to you?" I questioned, glaring at him.

"Wh-what?"

"Is this part of your obsession? -or are you just out to scare me?" I got up in his face to make sure he was listening.

"I… I am not sure what you're talking about, I assure you, Monsieur Christian. Really… what is it?"

"You can't possibly tell me that that woman is someone else! I know who that is!"

"Selene?"

"That's Satine!"

Scott burst out laughing. "SATINE! No, no! That's my sister, Selene. You really," He snorted, "really think that she looks like her? Satine is so much more wild, and her hair is longer, and-"

"Don't act as if you knew her personally!" I yelled, standing. "I know that's her! I knew Satine better than just about everyone! I can assure you that I know what she looks like!"

"You're… yelling at me…" Scott said fearfully, backing up.

I froze, realizing what I had done. "Oh…" I said, my shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry…I just got so caught up and I…"

"It's all right, I understand," Scott said, smiling again. "-but, seriously… Do you really think Selene looks like her?"

"I thought she was!" I said, holding my arms out. "I've never seen anyone look so much like someone else in my entire life… Was this part of your plan?"

"Plan? I really don't have a plan, Monsieur Christian," Scott said innocently. "Besides, I didn't even notice to tell you the truth. Usually she's not home, or I've got my nose in your book. How shameful of me! -and I've been calling myself your biggest fan!" He turned his back on me and pouted.

"Does… she sing?…" I asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, she does," He said, turning back around. "-but nothing nearly as wild as Satine. My sister is far from believing that diamonds are a girl's best friend."

"Scott-" The Satine look-alike entered the room once again. "Are you done?"

"Yes," I said, staring at her. I couldn't look away. My mind was telling me that it wasn't her, but my heart was refusing to believe it! "Yes…"

"Please," She said, glaring at Scott. "You'll have to excuse my brother. He gets a bit carried away… He didn't kidnap you, did he?"

"Oh, no! No… He invited me to dinner," I said. Her voice… I was melting at the sound of her voice… It was Satine, it had to of been… either that or God was playing a cruel trick on me…

"Did he?" She questioned, rather surprised, a smile on her face that warned of trouble. "Well, then, --Monsieur Christian, was it?--- Are you spending the night as well?"

"If… If you want me to," I said innocently, stumbling on my words slightly. Scott snorted with laughter and tried to cover it with a cough. Selene turned towards him giving a look that made him quiet immediately. "I--- I didn't mean it that way, of course, I mean… If you thought that I was thinking that because I wasn't thinking that at all!"

Selene stared at me. Scott looked like he was just about to bust a gut from holding in his laughter. He was gnawing on his lower lip, and his eyes were filled with tears. A few snickers were escaping, but thankfully (for him) Selene had been too engulfed in my discomfort to give her dearest brother a second glance.

"Really, now? Because from what I've learned in my twenty-two years of living is that whenever a man has to assure a woman that he wasn't thinking about this certain subject, I've always found that they actually were thinking of this certain subject and trying to cover their tracks to make themselves look innocent and good!" -and her smile was gone.

I stepped back slightly, overwhelmed. "No, I think you misunderstood me…" I said nervously. Her blue eyes were sending a glare at me that sent chills down my spine… and not the good kind. "I'm just a- a-"

"Writer? Oh, yes, I've heard all about you from my wildly exaggerating brother here!"

"It's not exaggerating!" Scott finally chimed in to postpone my punishment. "It's all true! The book says so! It's true! Tell her, Monsieur Christian!"

"Um… If you wish for me to leave, I'll just gather my things and go…" I said. My heart was starting to pound rather uneasily, for even as respectful as I was, as a man, I was doing all I could to keep from bursting out in a frenzy and singing and crying and yelling out my affections for her… Well… not for her, for Satine, but of course, she certainly was enough like her physically… All of her… Oh, my father would be having a riot right now.

"NO!" Scott cried. "Don't go! I still need to talk to you!" He ran in front of me defensively and threw his arms around my chest, holding me protectively. I had to say that I was a bit disturbed about the boy's affection for me, but I wasn't exactly in the position to say anything at the moment.

"Scott-" Selene began.

He turned his face towards her, giving her a look that, even though I could only see the top of his head, I knew was absolutely adorable. "Selene… Please let him stay! I'll cook dinner myself, and I'll even walk him home!"

She crossed her arms. The look on her face gave away that she was starting to give in. "Scott, what have I told you about-"

Scott was suddenly over with his sister with his arm around her waist. "He thinks you're really beautiful…" He coaxed, raising his eyebrows.

I felt a lump in my throat. I couldn't swallow it no matter how much I wanted to. I was about ready to pass out again.

She turned towards me. "I never heard him say that, Scott…" She seemed offended.

Scott grinned sheepishly. It was time for stage three. "PLEASE PLEASE! Please, let him stay, Selene!" He begged, dropping to his knees and placing his hands in praying position. "I'll do your half of the chores for a week!"

"A month."

"Aw, c'mon, Selene!"

"A month."

"Look, just 'cause that guy said that he didn't like you doesn't me you have to hate men for it!"

She looked shocked… then her shock was overcome with hurt. Scott looked guilty suddenly, realizing he said something he shouldn't have. I myself couldn't believe my ears. What man in his right mind would turn down her? She was a sparkling diamond… but I was making references to Satine again. This was different… Satine would go to the highest bidder… that is until she met me…

"I just remembered something I have to do," Selene said, walking out of the room. "Scott, start dinner. I'll be back soon."

Scott's shoulders slumped. "Yes, ma'am…"

-and she was gone.

"You've got to be joking…" I said.

Scott turned to me, still looking guilty and rather hurt himself. "About what, Monsieur Christian?"

"A man… t-turned down… h-her?" I stammered.

"Our neighbor…" Scott said, sitting down on the piano stand. "She's been in love with him since we first moved in here last year after our parents died… She thought he was beautiful… but that was about as far as he went, but she was blind to that…"

I sat down next to him, listening intently.

"I'm not entirely sure if she actually, really loved him… Maybe… -maybe she was just trying to ease her loneliness. She was really close to Mother and Father… After all, she was their first born… When they died, she was suddenly all alone. She couldn't be babied anymore. Now she had to baby us… and she was young, and she still is… She really can't do it alone… I try to help as best as I can, but… I'm a screw-up. Every job I've ever tried to do, I've failed miserably… Just when I was just about to give up hope, I saw your book in a store window, went inside, and began to read. I read and read and read all day long. When I finished it, I read it again and again. The words inspired me, and I realized something. I could make something out of nothing. You were just an innocent boy who had no talent except writing when you arrived here in Paris, and I realized that I must have a talent too!"

I couldn't believe that my words had effected him in that way. I thought he just enjoyed reading it. I didn't know I'd inspired him so much.

"-but… I'm getting off of the subject…" He smiled rather sadly. "She finally told that man next door how she felt… or how she thought she felt about him… about a few weeks ago… He told her that he was engaged to be married to a woman who was much richer without the little tag-alongs… He was talking about Margaret, Joseph, and me… I feel like she hated us for awhile because of that… and when he broke her already fragile heart, she decided to swear off of the emotion of love… Unfortunately… I mean, I'd just fallen into the words of the Bohemian Revolution, and I believed in truth, beauty, freedom, and love more than anything. I tried to get her to read the book… I thought she could regain hope like I did when I read it… but she refuses to because it's a story about love. I wish she would learn to love again… so that I wouldn't be so miserable… and neither would she…"

"What are you planning to do about it?" I questioned. I actually wanted to ask if he'd punched the man in the nose yet, but I figured that was fairly inappropriate.

"Well, first, I'm going to gain enough money so we'll live like kings!" He said hopefully, clenching his fists together and looking into my eyes with his own. It seemed there was a sort of magic in his eyes that went beyond a normal boy's. He had seen more than most had, and he had lost dreams… and he had gained new ones. "Then I'll find a nice young man to introduce to my sister! It'll be just like a novel! They'll meet, fall in love at first sight, and live happily!"

"How do you plan to make all that money?" I asked, standing.

"Well, that's what I need you for… That's a part of my plan," He said, smiling deviously at me.

"What plan!" I questioned rather fearfully.

"I'll tell you after dinner when I walk you home," He said, walking past me. "I'm going to start dinner."

"What about S-"

"Selene will be fine in awhile… She just went up to her room to be alone for a little while…"

I glanced up the stairs as Scott disappeared into the kitchen, then slowly headed up.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The hall seemed dark as I slowly walked down it, trying to remain as quiet as possible. I wasn't going to bother her. I merely wanted to check to make sure she was all right. I knew love could be painful for I'd experienced the pain, the jealousy, the loss…

I opened the door at the middle of the hall and peeked in silently. Her room was painted in very pale colors, whites and light pinks. Her bed was against the right wall and had curtains around it. There were steps leading up to the bed. All of the light in the room was coming from the door in the middle of the back wall and the windows on each side. The door led out to a balcony with a black, barred fence.

He could see her standing out on the balcony, her back to me. I started to take a step inside, when I was stopped by a voice…

Selene:

Sweet dreams… of you…

Every night I go through…

Why can't I forget you?…

And start my life anew?

Instead of having sweet dreams about you…

My eyes widened, and my breath had caught in my throat. I felt like I had just swallowed my heart and it had gotten stuck in my esophagus.

Selene:

You don't love me… it's plain

I should know… I'll never wear your ring…

I should hate you… the whole night through…

Instead of having sweet dreams about you…

Sweet dreams… of you…

Things I know… can't come true…

Why can't I forget the past, start loving someone new

Instead of having sweet dreams…

About…

You…

Satine's cool, ringing voice… I felt my whole body had turned cold, then suddenly heated up intensely. I was sweating ice it seemed, but I couldn't really tell, for I was currently going numb from the toes up.

Selene glanced over her shoulder, then screamed. I was knocked back into reality so unexpectedly that my brow hit the wall, making me stumble back and bang the back of my head against the wall behind me.

"Oh, OH!" She cried, running out of the room and kneeling down as I slid down the wall and sat on the ground, holding my throbbing head. "I… I'm sorry… I didn't realize you were watching me, and it scared me!…" She sounded worried, but it seemed that she noticed this as well and quickly changed her tone. "HOW DARE YOU WATCH ME LIKE THAT! What are you doing! That's very rude and very perverted!"

"I-- I'm sorry! Sorry!" I cried, glancing up at her. "I… I was just coming to see if you were all right and---" I winced slightly as the pain slowly started to numb.

"I'm fine! What makes you think that I'm not!" She retorted.

"Well… I mean… that is uh--- The song… That one you were singing…"

"That's… just a stupid song…" She said, sounding rather upset as she stood and wandered back into her room. "Leave me alone." She was just about to slam the door, but I put my foot in the way.

"Please… Please just listen to me for a moment," I said.

"No," She said, kicking at my foot to get it to move. "Get out! Stop it now!" She then managed to magically push me to the ground and slam the door.

I sat on the floor, looking thoroughly, utterly, undeniably taken aback by her. She was calling me rude? I continued sitting there, trying to think of what to do, when the door opened again.

"I… I'm sorry…" She said, standing over me. "I never meant… I mean… that is…"

"I understand…" I said, raising to my feet and dusting imaginary specks off my pants.

"So, what do you really want?" She asked, still looking a bit impatient and frazzled.

"I just… wanted to compliment you… You're… -You're very beautiful…" I stammered, heat creeping into my cheeks. "You have a lovely singing voice… You remind me of someone. In fact, you're so much like her that I thought-"

"I know what you're going to say," She said, and an edginess was slinking into her voice once more. "-and I'd prefer if you wouldn't compare me to that."

"Th-that?" I questioned, looking down, then up at her again.

"That Moulin Rouge can-can dancer! The 'Sparkling Diamond' and what-not! It's funny how people think that comparing my looks to that of a prostitute is a compliment!" She yelled, stamping her foot for effect. "Satine! Humph!"

I felt my heart shattering. Her name… She said her name… She insulted her. Yes, she was a pro---prosti--- courtesan… Yes, she was a can-can dancer at the Moulin Rouge… but… She'd never known her. How dare she judge her like that! How dare she attack the dignity… of the woman… I loved…?

I lowered my head and chewed on my lower lip uneasily. My eyes were burning with tears that were threatening to fall as her memories played over and over in my head. "You… You're wrong…" I muttered.

"What?" She asked. "Wrong about what?"

I glanced up at her again, and a look came across her face that I could not read. "It's nothing… sorry… I think I'll go see what Scott is doing…" I turned and headed down the hallway at a quick pace, listening to my breathing as it began to stagger. I heard her bedroom door close as I arrived at the steps.

I did not go down them. I sat on the top stair and folded my hands in my lap, trying to get the sick feeling in my stomach to pass. I closed my eyes tightly, seeing her face so clear in my mind, then softly began to sing to myself. "_One day… I'll fly… away…Leave all this… to yesterday… What more could your love do… for me… When will love be… through with me?… Why live life… from dream to dream?…and dread the day… when dreaming… ends…**How wonderful… life is…when you're in… love…**_"

How could I have known… that right at that moment she was leaning against her door, listening to me, watching me with empty eyes. She hadn't said a word as I got up and headed down to the first floor of the house, still feeling rather down. I didn't even know she was there… but the words had done their damage, and they had effected her thoughts -well, about me at least.

-

"Margaret, go play in the parlor! Joseph, stop trying to help me!" Scott's voice was squeaking from the kitchen. I glanced in silently, staring in awe at the sight before me.

Scott was standing at the stove, stirring a concoction with a wooden spoon. Margaret had a hold of his pants-leg, reciting 'pway, pway' over and over. Joseph was standing next to him saying, "Let me do it! You're no good! Let me try!"

I smiled and snickered slightly at the sight. Scott looked so drained from the entire scenario. It was quite funny.

"Chop potatoes then, Joseph, but first take your sister into the parlor!" Scott cried.

"Pway," Margaret said, tugging on his pants-leg.

"Fine, fine," Joseph said, grabbing Margaret by the under-arms and carrying her out of the room. He looked at me as he passed and smiled slightly. "I honestly don't know how you stuck around this long. If I was old enough to be on my own, I would've already been out the door."

I walked into the kitchen and leaned over next to Scott. "What are you cooking?"

"Stew… It's the only thing I know how to make," He said. "How's Selene?"

"Probably more infuriated at me than she was before," I said. "Hey, out of curiosity, do you have anything to drink?"

"Like what?" He asked as the tea kettle started whistling. He grabbed it and set it aside from the stove. "We have tea, quite obviously."

"It's all right," I said. I would have much preferred a glass of Absinthe, but he would probably question me about that… Then again, he would probably want some too since that's what my bohemian friends drank when I was with them. Either way, it was a really good reason not to say anything. "So… err…" I said. I needed some conversation.

"Christian?…" Scott asked, glancing casually towards me, though he seemed a bit uncomfortable.

"Y-yes?" I asked.

He smiled as if it couldn't be helped, and a pink flush lit his cheeks. "There's… I mean… Love, love, umm…"

I raised my eyebrow, staring in confusion as he went on like a blubbering idiot.

"That is… err…" The heat in his face was becoming more obvious as he stirred a bit faster. "Well, I don't really have a father to discuss this with, um---"

"Spit it out!" I cried, becoming impatient.

"A GIRL!" He yelped, his voice even squeakier than usual.

"A girl?" I repeated.

"M… my friend… I have a group of friends… and she's the only girl…" He said, looking at me.

"-and you're… in love?" I asked.

His blush reddened.

"I just don't know what to say… I mean, my tongue gets all tied up, and everything I've rehearsed disappears from my mind, and all I can say is hello…"

I stood there for a moment, trying to think up what to say. "You said that you wanted to be a writer, didn't you?"

"Yeah… but all my work is horrible. I try so hard to make it like yours, and it turns into nothing…"

"Well, that's your problem," I said, leaning next to him. "A writer writes what he feels down on paper. If you can't express your emotions towards this woman you're in love with, then put it into words on paper."

He looked at me as if I was a genius.

"-but… but I don't know if I can write something that good! I err--- well," It seemed he wasn't looking at me, but looking behind me, but I figured I was imagining. "Can you show me an example… You know… a real, live example?" His blue eyes glittered.

I stepped back slightly, bowled over for a moment. Of course he would ask me something like that. I sighed in frustration and said, "Very well." I began off the top of my head the words that came. The lyrics hurt me as I sang them, but I couldn't have thought of anything happy or cheerful. It just wasn't my lifestyle anymore.

Christian:

I can think of younger days

When living for my life

Was everything a man could want to do…

I could never see tomorrow…

-but I was never told about the sorrow…

-and how can you mend a broken heart?

How can you stop the rain from falling down?

How can you stop the sun from shining…?

What makes the world go around?

How can you mend this broken man?

How can a loser… ever win?

Please help me mend my broken heart…

And let me live again…

I can still feel the breeze…

That rustles through the trees

And miss the memories

Of days gone by…

We could never see tomorrow…

-and no one said a word about the sorrow…

And how can you mend a broken heart?

How can you stop the rain from falling down?

How can you stop the sun from shining?

What makes the world go around?

How can you mend this broken man?

How can a loser ever win!

Someone help me mend my broken heart…

And let me live again…

And let me live… again…

Scott was smiling brightly, his eyes shimmering with delight. "That was wonderful Monsieur Christian! Absolutely stupendous!" He suddenly surprised me by turning his head towards the doorway. "What did you think?"

I looked in the direction and felt my jaw drop slightly.

Selene was standing, staring at me.

"I-I--err--- um---" Now I was the blubbering idiot.

"Scott, I'll finish dinner. You and um--- Monsieur Christian go play with Joseph and Margaret, hm?" She said, passing in between the two of us. It seemed to me that she was avoiding my eyes.

"All right," He said, handing her the spoon. "Your stew is better than mine anyways." Then, grabbing hold of my wrist (once again…), he dragged me out of the kitchen before I could say anything. It seemed he was getting fairly good at dragging me like a dog on a leash.

-

We went into the parlor together, and he sat at the piano, dabbling in a few simple tunes. "My friend taught me a little bit, but he's a much better pianist than I'll ever be," Scott said. "Let me try and make something up now!"

Joseph was playing dolls with his sister, but the two were watching semi-interested.

He sat for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts. He stared at the ceiling, rocking his head side to side and chewing on his fingernail. "Uh…"

"Don't think. Just let your feelings express themselves in words," I said. He pulled his notebook out of his jacket (which must have been held right next to his book), and began to scribble something down in rather bad handwriting.

"I think I've got something…" He said. "I think…"

I sat back on the couch. "Show me."

Scott stood from the piano, cleared his throat, turned towards me, and slowly began to sing a fairly struggled tune off of the words on his paper.

Scott:

You give… your hand… to me…

And then you say hello…

And I can hardly speak

My heart is beating so

-and… anyone can tell

You think you know me well…

But you don't know me…

His singing seemed to get better as his confidence rose, and he began going on without the notebook, staring dreamily into space with a smile on his face.

Scott:

No, you don't know the one

Who dreams of you each night

And longs… to kiss your lips

And longs to hold you tight

To you I'm just a friend…

That's all I've ever been…

Because you don't know me…

For I never knew… the art of making love…

Though my heart aches with love… for you…

Afraid, and shy, I let my chance go by…

The chance that you might love me too…

You give your hand to me

And then you say goodbye

I watch you walk away!…

Beside the lucky guy…

Oh, will you ever know…

The one who loves you so…

No…

You don't… know me….

He took glanced up at me rather unsurely. "Pretty dumb, huh…" He said.

"No! No!" I cried, standing. "I thought it was fantastic! It's got very great potential!"

"It's the best thing _I've _heard you write anyways," Joseph said. "Though that's really not saying much."

Scott glared at him. "At least I'm not playing with dolls."

"Hey, it was a compliment," Joseph said.

"Co… compwiment," Margaret said and giggled adorably. I smiled at her. She was very cute.

"You really think it's good, Monsieur Christian? Really? THANK YOU SO MUCH!" He threw his arms around me.

"You're.. You're welcome…" I said, releasing his grip from my neck and setting him back on his feet. "So, why don't you tell me about this plan of yours--" Just as I was finishing my sentence, I could hear a spoon being banged against the bottom of a pot.

"DINNER!" Selene's enchanting voice called.

"YAY!" Scott yelled, making a clear leap over Joseph and Margaret, rushing to get there first. "Last one there's a rotten egg!"

Joseph pulled Margaret onto his back. "THAT'S PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE!" He yelled as Margaret laughed.

I stood there for a moment before walking calmly towards the dining room on the other side of the stairs.

It was decorated much like the parlor with reds, gold, and pinks. The table was made of dark oak wood with matching chairs (one on each end, two on the sides), and a chandelier of candles hung above it. There was a window on the back of the wall with a daybed underneath it. I hadn't realized that the sun was already going down. Time sure flied when being dragged around by a teenager, meeting a woman that looked just like Satine, and performing random poetry while waiting for dinner after being yelled at and worshiped.

"Monsieur Christian, since you're our guest, you can sit next to me," Scott said, beaming at me. He took his seat at the right and pointed to the chair next to his.

Selene was sitting at the head of the table, and if I sat next to Scott… I'd be sitting next to her as well…

Joseph had helped his sister into a chair and climbed into his own on the other side of the table.

I had no real choice, for Scott would certainly be disappointed if I let him down. I sat down in the seat he had specified was just for me. Selene was still avoiding my eyes as Joseph said grace and then as we all began to consume our stew.

(A/N: I don't own the songs "Sweet Dreams" by Patsy Cline, "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart" by Al Green, or "You Don't Know Me" by Ray Charles.)


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was dark by the time I had walked out the door of Scott's home, and I wondered if it truly was safe for Scott to walk outside being as young as he was. Surely I was an adult of course, but I didn't really know how to fight all that well.

The two of us strolled down the road rather slowly, silent. The sound of our shoes on the pavement seemed to echo through the darkness. There was hardly any noise, only prostitutes chattering and whispering and pointing and street dealers and drunkies laughing or crying.

" 'Ay!" A whore called from the street. "You go' any money?"

I glanced at her. "No," I said.

"Hello!" Scott said cheerfully, waving. "Have a nice night!"

She scowled at him, her leathery, ugly wrinkles hanging around her frown. "You go' any money?"

"Sorry, Mademoiselle! I'm not going that far unless it's with someone I love!" Scott said.

"Keep walking," I said sternly, placing my hand against his back and shoving him forward.

"What's the matter, Monsieur Christian?" He asked.

"Are you stupid or just too innocent?" I asked.

"Probably a little bit of both," He said, completely unfazed. "Selene says I need to concentrate on my studies instead of truth, beauty, freedom, and love. She's so silly. I'm learning the true lessons in life. Before there were books, studies, work, and money, all that people needed were those four principles to believe in."

"You really are a bohemian revolutionary," I said, fairly surprised at his enthusiasm.

"Of course. I already told you that," He said, looking over his shoulder and smiling. "-and I plan to bring back the bohemian revolution!"

"What!" I cried, stunned.

"I plan on making Montmartre the city it once was! A place where artists, musicians, and writers like you and myself can express themselves freely! Where we can be who we want to be, live how we want to live!" He cried out, holding his hands in the air.

"You've got to be insane! How do you possibly think you can do that?" I exclaimed.

He turned, walking backwards and held his index finger in the air. "That's my plan, my friend… That is my plan…"

"-and--- your plan is---" I said, staring at him as if I had never seen him before in my life.

"I, Scott L'opale, am going to…" He leaned up close to me, standing on his tip-toes, and whispered in my ear.

My eyes widened as he spoke.

"I'm going to reopen… the Moulin Rouge…" He said.

"WHAT!" I cried, stumbling, and almost falling.

"It's brilliant!" He said. "I think we can pull it off!"

"We?" I questioned. "Oh, no, you aren't dragging me into this are you!"

"Oh, come on, Christian!" He exclaimed. "It'll be simple! Two of my friends are brilliant at creating scenery and rebuilding anything and everything! Another friend of mine can play the piano very well, and my friend---er… " He blushed. "You know… um… Her… She can make costumes! See, Christian, if you get your friends to come back to Paris, we can put on _Spectacular, Spectacular! _just like in the book, and that alone will give us enough money to turn it back into the enchanting night club that it once was!"

"Oh, no… No, no, no," I said, shaking my head. "There's no way. There is no way."

"-but why not? Come on!" He cried. "I've got it all planned out in my mind!"

"Do you even have an investor to buy all the supplies you need?" I took my hat off and ran my hands through my hair in frustration.

"Well… maybe not all of it… but the Bohemians and the Dogs and Zidler had to have made some money with their traveling show, right?"

"It would never be enough to fund what you're trying to create!"

I had never been so glad to be at my garret. I hurried up the steps, but Scott was once again following me.

"Christian! You're talking like it's impossible!" Scott cried as I arrived at my door and pulled out my key.

"It is!" I retorted.

"No!" He cried, and I turned to him, looking into his eyes. "Don't you believe anymore? Anything's possible if you believe."

"I don't remember writing that one," I said rather flatly.

"You didn't…" He said. "My mother taught it to me… to all of us… before she died…"

"Believing won't get you everywhere," I said, opening my door. "Adieu!" -and I slammed the door.

Suddenly, I heard from outside the door… his voice, screaming…

"YOU SOUND JUST LIKE MY SISTER! Why is it that people give up so easily! I thought you would never give up, Christian! I don't want you to give up! Your friends wouldn't want you to give up! ---and I bet Satine wouldn't want you to give up either!"

I felt a jab in my heart.

"Come on! Are you just going to hide away in there for the rest of your life! What about truth, beauty, freedom, and love! Christian, you taught me that the greatest thing I'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return! Don't you believe in your own words, Christian!"

I couldn't say a word.

"Fine! Stay in there! -but I'll be back tomorrow! I mean it! I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!"

He didn't say anything else.

I glanced at the bottles on the floor. All empty, just as they had been when I left. I sighed in frustration and leaned back against the door, eyes closed. As I stood in silence, I suddenly remembered a bottle of Absinthe up in the room where the Bohemians used to stay. It seemed that poor, forgetful Toulouse had forgotten one, and I had yet to bring it down.

I rushed up the ladder, and after digging around in the dusty kitchen for a few minutes, I found it and took it back into my room with me. As I came down, I threw my coat and hat onto the bed.

I sat down at my typewriter and lit a candle, then poured a glass of Absinthe for myself. I took a sip, then began to type anything that would come to my head, trying to shut out what Scott had yelled through my door.

…but it was all that came…

By the time I had finally started to forget the words, I had drunk about two-thirds of the bottle of Absinthe.

"Writing… is so complicated…" I slurred, blinking somewhat crookedly.

The Green Fairy flew from the bottle and sat on my shoulder.

"Poor penniless poet," She said, running her tiny hand along my cheek. "He's so lonesome he could cry."

I didn't say anything to her.

"You know," She said, jingling as she inclined her body in the curve of my neck, hugging her knees to her chest. "If you're that miserable, why don't you just kill yourself?"

"What?" I said slowly. "Why would I want to---"

"You do want to be with Satine again, don't you?" She asked, smirking a bit suggestively.

I looked down at the keys on my typewriter. They were moving slightly, but perhaps it was just me swaying in my drunken state. "Die…? To be with Satine?"

"Of course," She said, shrugging. "-if you think you'll end up in the same place. She might be in hell, you know."

"If I went to hell… I would be fine if she was with me…" I said. I was having trouble forming my words correctly. In fact, I was even having trouble thinking things through at all.

Christian:

I'm just the pieces of the man I used to be

Too many bitter tears are raining down on me

I'm far away from home

And I've been facing this alone

For much too long

I feel like no one ever told the truth to me

About growing up and what a struggle it would be

In my tangled state of mind

I've been looking back to find

Where I went wrong…

Too much love will kill you

If you can't make up your mind

Torn between the lover

And the love you leave behind

I'm headed for disaster

'cause I never read the signs

Too much love will kill you…

Every time…

Green Fairy:

You're just a shadow of the man you used to be

And it seems there's no way out of this, you see

She used to bring you sunshine

Now all she ever does is bring you down

Christian:

How would it be if you were standing in my shoes?

Green Fairy:

Can't you see that it's impossible to choose…

Christian & Green Fairy:

No, there's no making sense of it…

Christian:

Every way I go I'm bound to lose…

Christian & Green Fairy:

Too much love will kill you

Just as sure as none at all

Christian:

It'll drain the power within you

Green Fairy:

Make you plead and scream and crawl

Christian:

And the pain will make me crazy

Green Fairy:

You're the victim of your crime

Christian & Green Fairy:

Too much love will kill you…

Yes, too much love will kill you---!

Green Fairy (wicked whisper):

Every… time…

My vision began to blur even worse, and the glass I had in my hand slipped out of my hand and crashed to the floor. My head lolled forward and landed in front of the typewriter. I could hear The Green Fairy's evil cackle as I slipped into unconsciousness.

-

A pounding noise was echoing in the back of my mind. I opened my eyes but shut them quickly as the light of the sun singed them. The pounding noise was now much louder, and it wasn't all just in my mind.

"Monsieur Christian!" A squeaky voice called through the door.

"He's back…" I whispered, rubbing my eyes and stretching out my aching body. Sleeping in a chair had really done its damage.

I stood and stretched, the pounding and burning eyes nearly driving me insane. Stumbling across the floor, I grabbed hold of the knob. I wondered if I should really open it.

"I'm too good to people," I muttered, opening the door.

Scott's beaming face greeted me. "Good morning, Monsieur Christian! Sleep well?"

"Not really," I said as Scott sauntered in as if he owned the place. "I was… working…"

"Really?" He said, staring at the blank sheets of paper on the desk. "Where's your work?"

"I couldn't think of anything," I said, closing the door.

"Why is there broken glass on the floor?" Scott asked, pushing it into a small pile with his foot.

Why'd he have to ask me so many questions now? I sighed, trying to remember. "I dropped a glass."

"Why would you want to do that?" He asked.

"Did you know that you ask too many questions? It was an accident," I said. He really didn't need to talk that loudly, but then again, it was probably just my hangover.

He grabbed the almost empty bottle of Absinthe and looked inside of it. "Where'd all the rest of this stuff go?"

"Why are you here?" I asked, changing the subject. After all, down my throat probably wouldn't have been the best answer.

"I came to get you!"

"Get me for what?"

"You have to meet my friends! I want to prove to you that they're capable of helping us reopen the Moulin Rouge!"

I walked out onto the balcony edge and stared blearily out at the Moulin Rouge with my aching eyes. "I already told you. I'm not interested."

"I know," He said, running out next to me. "That's why, I won't take no for an answer. I'm going to change your mind if you have to kill me to do it! I never give up! I don't want to be like you and Selene, giving up before giving it a shot! Come on, let's give it a go! If we make it, great! If we don't, at least we tried, and we'll be proud that we at least got that far!"

"All right… all right… I'll come meet your friends… but what's in it for me?"

"I don't suppose dinner at my house again would work…" He grinned sheepishly.

"Not quite," I said.

"How about…" He started thinking again, staring up at he sky and rocking his head side to side as he had done the other day. "AH!" He turned to me. "I'll set you up with my sister!"

"What? What makes you think--"

"The way you stare at her."

"That's because she looks like Satine!" I cried, blushing slightly.

"Yeah, I know, you told me that much. I still think you like her."

"Of course I like her! She looks like Satine!--- Oh, you caught me…" I said.

Scott grinned mischievously. "That's why I always get up early. My brain gets a head start from everyone else's. My friend taught it to me," He said, grabbing my wrist and dragging me towards the door.

"Why do I have to get up early just because you do?" I complained.

"It's not early. It's ten o' clock," He said, opening the door. "If you want early, I'll come get you at seven."

I moaned a response.

"I never really thought you to be a late riser, Monsieur Christian," Scott said as we descended the stairs.

"Didn't used to be…" I muttered, rubbing my aching shoulders with my free hand. I was beginning to grow used to being dragged around by this young boy, but I still didn't like it much.

-

He had hauled me out onto the street successfully, and after about twenty minutes of walking, we arrived at what looked to be an old, abandoned, yet very interesting building. Every bit of every wall was covered in mural. There were people's faces, hearts, stars, the moon, the Moulin Rouge, lovers, fighters, drinkers, dancers, just about everything imaginable painted there all along a slue of musical notes that actually wrote out the tune to a song. It was very beautiful, at least to a mind like mine, but the colors were very bright, and my head had not quite recovered from the Absinthe yet.

"Let's go," Scott said, opening the door where the Moulin Rouge was painted. I stepped inside to a slightly dimmer room that was very large. It smelled of paint, cigarette smoke, and too much perfume.

There was a giant canvas against the back wall where an absolutely splendid night scene had been painted on the left, a gorgeous day scene on the right, and absolutely nothing in the middle. On the right wall was a piano and an enormous pile of books and papers on a table, all seeming to have complicated compositions of music written on them. On the left of the room were a bunch of mannequin bodies with unfinished dresses and suits hanging on them that were quite exquisite. Then, of course, in the back was a desk with a typewriter and more piles of paper that seemed to have words on them. Next to the canvas and behind the piano was a flight of stairs.

"SOUND OFF!" Scott cried. "IS ANYBODY HERE?"

A thundering noise above us told us that there was.

"You all better be here! I told you to be here in twenty minutes so that you could meet Monsieur Christian!"

"Only you would be late for your own meeting, eh, Penniless Poet?" A young man's voice said from the top of the stairs as his large boots thumped against them on the way down.

As he appeared, I noticed immediately that he was incredibly tall and skinny and lacked a button-down shirt. Dressed in only his undershirt, gray pants, suspenders, and his clunky black boots, he appeared quite grungy, especially with his limp brown hair that hung in his eyes around his shoulders. Speaking of his eyes, they were covered in a pair of oval-shaped sunglasses that made me think of Satie, the musician bohemian friend of mine, except that these only had two lenses instead of four. In his mouth was a cigarette with smoke trailing the air.

"Smoke!" Scott cried. "I take it you were the first here?"

"I live here," He said simply as he removed the cigarette from his mouth and blew out puffs of smoke.

"I was kidding around," Scott said awkwardly.

Thump, thump.

Two heads appeared right next to each other at the same time.

"Hello, Penniless Poet," Two voices said in unison as they stepped off the bottom stair.

Two young boys, only twelve or so, stood side by side in black suits with the sleeves ripped off the jackets. They both wore the same blue shirt underneath and had matching black hats. They both had the same sandy hair with the same part in the middle, the same green eyes, and the same posture. It was like looking at two sides of a mirror or something.

"Ying, Yang," Scott greeted.

"You're late," They both said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," He said. "Blame him. He wouldn't come." He pointed to me.

"Blame me!" I cried, looking at him disgustedly. "Excuse me if we didn't go over this before!"

"Well, you're the one who slammed the door on me last night," Scott said innocently. I bit my lip, feeling guilty.

"It's about time! We've been waiting up there for a whole… well, it was only five minutes, but we love to complain, you know!" A woman's voice was coming down the stairs, along with another clunk of shoes.

Scott seemed to go stiff and pale.

The woman at the bottom of the stairs had to only be his age, give or take a year. She had black, wavy hair that fell just about to her shoulders, and there was an almost abnormally large red ribbon tied up on the top of her head. She had brown eyes that seemed to sparkle, and her lips were painted red. It seemed she had the tendency to dress down, for she was only in her corset, under dress (which was sleeveless and had a blue ribbon around the top hem and the bottom hem), and a pair of tan, tie-up boots that went halfway up the lower half of her leg.

"H---Hello…" Scott squeaked.

"Still haven't fixed that squeal of a voice, huh?" Smoke said, puffing on his cigarette.

"That's Black Cherry," The two boys said simultaneously.

"Wait a minute… Ying Yang… Smoke… Black Cherry… These are your names?" I asked, surprised.

"Pft, no," Smoke laughed. "We just go by nicknames that we like. We're a club of bohemians. Names are for normal folk."

"Yes, normal folk," Ying and Yang said.

"So… You're the impoverished writer that blondie here models himself after, eh?" Black Cherry walked up to me, swaying gracefully and looking into my eyes. "The way you describe yourself in the book doesn't do you justice, dearest Penniless Sitar Player…" She said huskily.

Scott blushed at her being nearby and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Though there is one thing I don't like," She said, flipping some of her hair back behind her shoulder.

"Wh-what is that…?" I questioned nervously.

"Bloodshot eyes. Not very attractive in a man," She said, shrugging. She passed Scott and slapped his cheek playfully twice as she walked. "This Penniless Poet keeps his eyes clear."

He smiled broadly, even more than he usually did.

"Yeah, but even the smell of alcohol makes him vomit," Smoke said, leaning on the piano and laughing.

Scott's smile faded, and he blushed in humiliation. Wanting no further scorn from Smoke, he turned his attention to the object of his affection, Black Cherry, who was sitting on the floor, working on the skirt of a can-can dancer's dress.

"Um… uh---" He said, turning back to Ying, Yang, and Smoke. "With Christian, we can open the Moulin Rouge again!" He cried.

"Why do you say that? Is he rich?" Smoke asked.

They all looked at me. I looked around nervously.

"No," Scott said. "He's still living in the garret he was staying at in the book. He says we'll have to find an investor."

"Well, I could've told you that," Smoke said, sitting down at the piano.

"Then, why didn't you say anything when I said I'd figured everything out!"

"-because you need to learn to realize stuff on your own," Smoke said, checking a few keys to see if they were in tune. "If you don't, I'll have to follow you around for the rest of your life to make sure you don't die from lack of attention, and I've got better things to do, Penniless Poet."

Scott was silent for a moment. "Oh."

"So," Smoke said, playing a few more keys as he turned in my direction. "Monsieur Christian… How do you plan to help us reopen the Moulin Rouge, eh?"

"Well… I…" I muttered.

"Come here," He said.

I did.

"Can you sing?"

"I… I performed in _Spectacular, Spectacular!_ once… but only in the final scene…" I said.

""Come What May" if I'm correct, right?" Smoke said.

"…Yes…" I responded hesitantly.

"That song is… kind of hard to play," Smoke said.

"Psh! Not for you!" Black Cherry said. "You play it all the time! I know, 'cause I have to sing the girl's part for you!"

"Yes, because you cannot hit those high notes, Smoke," Ying and Yang said, walking to their painting in chorus.

"Well, let me try it with the real artist singing it this time. Hell knows that I can't carry a tune in a bucket… but then again, I'm so poor I can't afford the bucket," Smoke said.

"Fine, fine," Black Cherry said, getting up. "I still don't know why Scott won't help."

I knew. He couldn't get a word out while he was looking at her.

"Let's see just how talented you are," Black Cherry said. "How about you-"

"No," I said.

"Huh?" She raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"I-I won't sing that song. I won't sing "Come What May"…" Even saying the title was pricking me.

"Well then…" Smoke said, pushing his sunglasses up on his nose a bit. "It seems our sitar player can't let it die."

"I guess that would explain the bloodshot eyes," Black Cherry said.

"-and the sad look in his eyes," Ying and Yang said, making strokes on their painting.

"Huh? Wh-what're you talking about?" Scott asked.

"You like to have visits from the Green Fairy do you?" Smoke asked, smirking.

"Someone so innocent can go down the wrong path, who knew?" Black Cherry cried.

"So, isn't there something you ought to do?" Ying and Yang asked.

"STOP RHYMING!" Scott yelled.

"You're only jealous because we write better than you," Black Cherry said, crossing her arms.

"Heh… It's true," Smoke mocked, playing on his piano. "Ahem… Black Cherry?"

She smirked, flipping her hair again and began to sing. I could feel Scott go stiff as the words escaped her lips.

"_Voulez vous coucher avec moi? Ce soir?_" She sang lustily. "_Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, flow sister!_"

"_Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, flow sister_," Ying and Yang echoed.

Smoke:

If life's an awful bore

And living's just a chore, you endure

'cause death's not much fun…

I've just the antidote

And though I mustn't gloat

-at the Moulin Rouge!

YOU'LL HAVE FUN!

Black Cherry went into her own version of the can-can, and Scott looked about as red as the ribbon in her hair.

Smoke:

So stretch that little niggle

Give a little wiggle!

Black Cherry than sang above Smoke's voice in her own powerhouse voice.

Black Cherry:

CREOLE LADY MARMALADE!

Scott smiled as if he was in a haze, blinking crookedly.

"Brilliant! That's very good, Black Cherry!" Smoke cried, panging on his piano a bit more. "Hey, Penniless Poet, you're normally not the quiet one. How about you give it ago with some of your modern poems?"

"Um… actually… yesterday… err--- I started writing something really good! -with the help of Monsieur Christian, of course… I think if he helps, I can do it again."

"How can I help?" I inquired suspiciously.

"Um… how about a little inspiration?… Did you get anything in your head last night?" He asked.

"Uh… well, yes, but---"

"Give it a go then!" Smoke cried. "Just start singing. I can pick up on any tune you give."

"Well, it's just that… I was err--"

"Ah, I see," Smoke said. "You were drunk at the time, and you don't remember."

"I do remember, but…"

"You sang a duet with the wicked Green Fairy," Smoke said. "I've been there before."

"Monsieur Christian! You got drunk!" Scott exclaimed as if it was the most impossible thing to ever happen.

"Bloodshot eyes," She said. "I bet your head was killing you too."

I didn't say anything.

"Monsieur Christian… You're not… an alcoholic, are you?" Scott asked hesitantly.

"No! NO!" I retorted uneasily. I stumbled slightly.

"Well, you've sure convinced me," Smoke said sarcastically as he went into a quick-paced version of "Hindi Sad Diamonds".

"I certainly am not an alcoholic! I just enjoy alcohol once in awhile," I said simply.

"Yeah, that Absinthe is fantastic after you get over it being bitter and making a girl come off the bottle that tells you everything you hate about yourself."

I stared at him.

"-but maybe that was just my hallucination. You know, the best way to get off this subject is if you start inspiring Penniless Poet over there to do something---" Smoke was cut off by me.

Christian:

My gift is my song!

…and this one's… for you…

…and you can tell everybody…

That this is your song…

It may be quite simple but…

Now that it's done…

I hope you don't mind…

I hope you don't mind…

That I put down in words…

How wonderful… life… is…

Now you're in… the world…

"Wow," Black Cherry said. "I'm impressed."

"Me too!" Ying and Yang said.

"Ah, with a voice like that, who needs music?" Smoke said, a smile on his face. "I hate people like you. You put us musicians out of business!" He chuckled.

"Err… thank you…I think…" I muttered.

"That's as close to a compliment as you get with him," Scott said.

"All right…" I said, feeling downhearted. Of all songs, why did that one come out? It already hurt enough to have "Come What May" playing in the back of my head, but why did my song to Satine have to escape my lips? How many times did I have to break my own heart?

…and the Green Fairy whispered in my ear….

_"Too much love will kill you… **in the end**…"_

(A/N: "Too Much Love Will Kill You" is property of Queen. BTW, I'm working on a cover for this story that has pictures of the important characters on it. I'm almost finished, so I'll keep you posted. Oh, and thanks a lot for reviewing. I feel loved. )


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

As I spent the day with Scott and his strange, bohemian friends, another individual had arrived in Paris. This individual I happened to have known quite well not too long, but it wasn't a friendly relationship, assuredly. He was known by…

The Duke.

The Duke had come to visit an old friend of his to congratulate his engagement to a very ugly, but very rich woman from uptown. His friend, though not very rich himself, lived not far from Montmartre, but the two were not meeting there. They had set up an appointment at a brewery on a corner.

This brewery was a dark, dingy place where most low-class workers would come after work. It smelled of whiskey and smoke drifted through the air. It was dimly lit with a candle on each table.

The two men picked a place in the very back left corner as to not be bothered by the drunken fools that were singing and dancing to off-key pangs on an out of tune piano.

The Duke was dressed in his usual fancy suit, looking very out of place compared to the other workers, and his friend was dressed in a clean, red, button-down, black pants, and a black jacket. His friend was very handsome with slicked-back brown hair and eyes so dark they looked black. He was strong and had a well-built upper body that made him look young and intelligent.

"I'm glad you came to visit, dear Duke," The man said, sitting down. "I'm actually quite surprised."

"Yes, well…" The Duke said, sitting at his own chair and folding his hands neatly on the table in front of his hat. "I'm not only here for that…"

"You're in need of my services, are you then?" The other man asked, raising his eyebrows interestedly. "I thought you said you would never need my help as wealthy as you are."

"Well, I was wealthy until that blasted Moulin Rouge," The Duke responded rather fiercely.

"I'd realized it closed down," The man said. "So, what happened?"

"It was a damned writer. He stole that sparkling diamond and bewitched her with words… The show did not end my way, and she did not come to me, and so I left. It closed down for I didn't supply it with the money necessary to keep it alive, mainly because I'd spent it all on that wretched show!"

"I… I see…" The other man said. "I don't understand. This beautiful 'diamond' fell for a writer when she could have been with you? You would have had enough money if they kept performing shows, but they left… and she left with a writer!"

"According to my knowledge, since she's certainly not still at the Moulin Rouge," The Duke said. "I have to find some way to get my finances back to the way they were. I'm tired of playing on a façade. I want to be the real deal again, if you know what I mean."

"I see," The other man said. "Well, do you have any ideas?"

"No," He said impatiently. "That's why I came to you."

"Well, why don't you reopen that Moulin Rouge place?"

"Are you mad?"

"Now, now, I can supply the money necessary to help you if you can find the people for the job. All I will require… is a cut of the money you make in the process… Sound interesting?…"

The Duke seemed to seriously be considering it. "How much of the cut did you have in mind?"

"Only thirty percent, dear Duke. After all, if you reopen that place, the dough will be rolling in. Another Bohemian Revolution is beginning to stir, and you know how they love all of that 'be who you want to be, do what you want to do' unreality."

"I think you're on to something, Cardigan," The Duke said, a smirk playing on his thin lips. "-but the show will never gain the crowd it did without its "Sparkling Diamond"."

"Well, that's your job, dear Duke. You find the people to supply it, and I'll find the currency to open it." He held out his hand. "Do we have a deal?"

The Duke stared at his hand for a moment, then shook it. "It'll be a pleasure doing business with you."

"You can come by my house later this evening to work out the details," Cardigan said, standing. "Now, let's get out of this hell hole."

-

"So," Smoke said, putting out his nub of a cigarette and drawing two more from his pocket. He placed one behind his ear and one in his mouth, then leaned over a candle to light it. "How are we going to get the money to open our nightclub?"

"We could ask for donations…" Black Cherry suggested from her spot on the floor as she sewed a row of frills around the edge of a skirt.

"That's a good idea," Scott said, smiling his best smile at her.

"I don't think it would be enough," Smoke said.

"We could sell some paintings," Ying and Yang said, looking over their shoulders as they finished placing the last details onto their day and night mural.

"It'll help, but I think we'd need a lot more to pay for the electric bill alone, not to mention the people we'll have to hire," Smoke said blowing what he had been nick-named for into the air.

"Well, we could bring back the bohemians, Zidler, and the dogs like I said to Monsieur Christian yesterday! They were bound to have made money off of _Spectacular, Spectacular! _so that should help-"

"If they help us," Black Cherry said.

"Of course they will!" Scott cried. "They're Monsieur Christian's friends!"

"Ah, so our very own penniless sitar player does fall into the mix," Black Cherry said, winking at me.

"By the way," Smoke said, tossing me a flask. "Hair of the dog that bit you."

I looked down at the floor in embarrassment, ran my hand through my hair, and took a long swig from it.

"Well, that still doesn't seem like enough," Black Cherry said. "I guess I could sell some clothes."

"Hell knows that you don't wear them," Smoke said. She glared at him, then smirked.

"I'll make sure to slip you into one of my dresses while you sleep. You try walking around in more than this while wearing these uncomfortable corsets."

"Sorry," Smoke said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "So, Penniless Poet, what're you going to do to contribute."

"I… I'm going to try to… sell a book…" He said slowly. Everyone looked at him.

I took another swig out of the flask. "What do you plan to write?"

"I… I'm not really sure yet, but err--- You told me that I should write what I feel, and I feel all kinds of emotions…" He glanced over at Black Cherry and blushed. "I think I can do it… I was really good with that song I wrote yesterday, right?"

"Yes," I agreed.

"Really now? Let me see it," Smoke said.

Scott reached into his coat and handed him his notebook. "Uh… here you go…" He blushed even more heavily.

Smoke opened the book and read a few pages. "This IS really good. Very moving…Is it written from personal experience?" He smiled knowingly.

Scott was silent, working at swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Ah," Smoke said. "I see."

"We'll begin painting anyways," Ying and Yang said, each grabbing an easel, sitting down Indian style, and beginning to paint.

"Well, we'll have enough to sell at least," Black Cherry said. "They're the fastest, most skillful painters in all of France."

"Your costumes should rake in loads of money, since they're so nice," Scott said.

"Thank you, Penniless Poet," She said, smiling. "At least SOMEONE appreciates me, eh, Smoke?"

"I appreciate you," Smoke said, dabbling in a few strange tunes and writing them down. "Just not as much as you want me to. You should marry Penniless Poet. He'll worship you."

"SMOKE!" Scott screamed, turning red.

Black Cherry burst out laughing. "Smoke's so good at making you uncomfortable!"

"So, Penniless Poet, how did you convince Monsieur Christian to come here? Did you kidnap him?" Smoke asked.

"Why does everyone think that!" Scott yelled. "Of course not. I'm setting him up on a date with my sister."

Smoke burst into a fit of coughs by sucking too much on his cigarette. Black Cherry laughed harder.

"-b-but," Smoke choked. "She's such a bitch since that neighbor of yours---"

"Why does the sitar player like her anyways!" Black Cherry giggled.

"She looks like Satine," I said quickly, without thinking.

"Yeah, she does, but looks aren't everything," Smoke said.

"You knew?" Scott asked, shocked.

"I know a lot of stuff before you do," Smoke replied simply.

Scott scrunched up his nose in disgust. "Oh."

"You know, Smokey, my boy, Selene really isn't all that mean. Heartbreak is something hard to recover from. Good luck, dearest sitar player. If anyone can cure her, you and your magic words can," Black Cherry said, standing and starting to sew some frills onto a sleeve.

I blushed. "Um---"

"Good luck," Ying and Yang chanted.

"Can I have my flask back please?" Smoke asked.

"Oh! Err---" I tossed it back to him.

"Well, first, how about you let me go over all the details that you'll need to know," Scott said, putting his hand against my back and leading me up the stairs.

"We'll get to work on a plan on how to get people's attention so that they'll donate money to us," Black Cherry said.

Scott nodded as he opened the door at the top of the stairs.

The room above the lower room was the same size as the room below, except there was a ladder leading up to a high platform where a bed was. In the middle of the room was an old, moldy-looking couch with a table in front of it that was scattered in even more miscellaneous pieces of music. Some beautiful paintings were placed in the corner near the window with pictures of what looked like goddesses. It seemed that Ying's and Yang's paintings reacted to light and looked even more stunning.

Finished costumes were hanging on a pole that had been placed across the back of the room. I had never seen such incredible and bohemian costumes.

"This is where Smoke lives and keeps our finished stuff… I don't have anything up here…" Scott said, somewhat sadly. "Well, anyways, sit down."

I sat down, and he sat next to me. "My sister… she'll pretend not to listen to you, but trust me, she's listening. If you say something you'll regret later, she'll make sure to have it registered in her mind to bring it up when you're winning an argument. She's very dedicated in helping Joseph, Margaret, and me, and she now believes that love is a pitiful thing that gets in the way. That's where YOU come in." He pointed at me.

"Me---?" I questioned nervously.

"Yes you. You have to teach her that love is like oxygen, love is a many splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, **_all you need is love_**! --You know, like in the book."

"So even this is part of your plan. You're a crafty little boy… You're trying to use me to your advantage," I said. His smile faded, and he stared at me as if I was going to punch him. "I suppose I would do the same thing if I was in your shoes… I'll give it my best…" I stood abruptly and got in his face. "-but don't expect me to fall in love, understood?"

He was silent for a minute, and then a Cheshire-Cat grin spread across his face. "Understood."

"Good," I said.

"No one ever expects to fall in love…" He muttered.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't expect you to fall in love," He said.

"Right… now tell me more about her."

"My sister absolutely loves music. Mother and Father taught her all about it when she was young. She stands on her balcony and sings a lot. Don't talk about diamonds. That makes her mad. She thinks that money should be used for important things…" He whispered in my ear as if she was listening. "Though I bet she wouldn't turn down some if they were given out."

I smiled slightly at the childishness of him. "Anyways," He continued. "She's very insecure in the love department as you already know, so try to avoid the subject of lovers at first. Be very charming, it makes her blush and sputter. She can't insult you. That's a good thing."

"She sounds a bit… prissy in a way," I muttered. She didn't sound much like Satine at all.

"She is, but it's part of her veneer. She doesn't want to know that her neighbor effected her, or that we're barely scraping by. We only have the nice things we do because of what our parents left us when they died. She's very, very sensitive when it comes to making us look like we own money and keeping us looking nice. Before, she was really nice and used to sing to us whenever we went to bed or had a bad dream. She'd tell jokes and giggle cutely, but she rarely even smiles now… See… That's what I want you to do, if that's all… Make her smile again."

My eyes widened slightly. Scott was quite serious about her. I felt sorry for him. His sister wasn't the one he used to know after living out tragedy after tragedy. I, myself, knew just what tragedies could do to change a person, for I didn't feel like I was the same person I was a year ago.

"I see," I muttered. "I'll do what I can… I suppose…"

"Great! You shouldn't have a problem!" Scott said, pulling his (well mine if it was in technical matters) book out of his jacket. "By the way, will you take this home for me? I'm going to try to concentrate on my own skills tonight."

I took it somewhat hesitantly and slipped it under my arm. "I'm supposed to leave right now?"

"Yeah! The quicker the better! GO!" Scott giggled.

I headed towards the door.

"-but-"

I turned on my heel and looked at him. "What?"

"…never mind…" He suddenly became very interested in the dust on the floor. "See you later."

"Right…" I said, opening the door.

Little did I know what took place as we had our little conversation.

-

Francis Cardigan, the Duke's good friend had brought him to his home to go over the details of their own plan to reopen the Moulin Rouge. They had just enjoyed a dinner from Cardigan's extremely ugly fiancée, discussing it all throughout the meal, and the Duke was headed towards the bathroom to wash up, when he heard something from an open window. It was coming from the house next door's balcony…

He glanced out the window in interest, raising one of his eyebrows.

Then, there in his vision, was a woman standing on her balcony… a woman he believed he knew very well, in a blue, high-collared top with black buttons, black corset, and a long blue skirt. She had perfectly waving, sunset-colored hair, shimmering blue eyes that would leave you breathless…and she was singing.

Selene:

One day… I'll fly away…

Leave all this to… yesterday…

What more could your love do for me?

When will love be… through with me?

Why live life… from dream to dream!…

…and dread… the day…

When… dreaming… ends…

How wonderful life is… now you're… in… love…

"It's…her…" The Duke said.

"It's who?" Francis Cardigan asked.

The Duke didn't bother to answer, heading down the steps in a rush and out the front door towards her house.

He ran up to the door and banged on it with his fist. "I will have my Sparkling Diamond for my show…" He muttered.

Selene had apparently heard it, for after a few moments of silence, she opened the door and stared at the Duke.

"May I help you?" She questioned, Margaret peeking around from behind her.

"My dear, I couldn't help but hear your beautiful voice, and I had to come and apologize for all I've done." He figured taking the repentant roll would woo her, quite obviously. Had I been there, and had she been Satine, we never would have fallen for it.

"Y… Yes…?" She more asked than stated, perplexed on what he was talking about. She must have figured that she had merely forgotten over time. "Is that all… Monsieur?"

"No," He said, trying to smile innocently but not quite pulling it off. "I am curious as to if you would like to be the star of my show… After all, we both know you have the skill to be the star, and I would be delighted if-"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested," Selene said, about to close the door.

Margaret caught his eye as she stared fearfully up at him. An idea began to form in his mind.

"Is this… your sister?" He questioned.

"Yes…" She said.

"If you were the star of my show… you would have enough money to keep food on the table… to keep this little girl in good clothes… and send her to school…"

Selene's eyes widened. "-and all I have to do is sing in your show?" She asked breathlessly.

"Sing and dance, if you will," The Duke said. "I will make sure you have a fantastic sum of money with you work."

"Really?" She asked, a smile starting to spread across her face.

"-but of course," The Duke said, trying to sound noble. Oh, how he knew they were hiding their poor status… then again, he was putting on the same show at the moment…

"I… I'll do it!" She cried, her smile quite wide now. "I've never been offered so well! Where is it located?"

"Why… my dear…" He smiled. "At the Moulin Rouge… Adieu…" -and he headed back off down the walk.

Her smile faded, her shoulders slumping, and she paled. "Oh…" She moved her hands in the form of a cross over her chest and head, slamming the door and leaning against it. "What have I… How could…"

"Selene?" Joseph asked from the parlor.

She seemed to be trembling. "No… How could I have rushed into that!" She then screamed out, pulling at her hair slightly and rushing up the stairs. "I have to do something! I have to do something!" She cried. "I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!"

"What did he ask her to do?" Joseph asked Margaret, as if she would know. "Scott talks fondly about the Moulin Rouge… Hey, he didn't just try to pawn her off as a courtesan, did he!"

Margaret stared at him blankly, obviously having no idea what he was talking about.

"Hungwy," She said.

"AGH! Again? Sheesh," He picked her up and carried her off into the kitchen to find her something.

-

I arrived shortly afterward and knocked on the door. There was silence for a long period of time. I knocked again. "Um… Hello?" I called into the door.

"WHAT!" Selene swung the door open, looking frantic and angry. "You little rat, how dare---- Oh…. Monsieur Christian…?"

"Um… Hello…" I murmured, a bit stunned by her frightening performance.

"Scott isn't here," She said, about to close the door.

"No, wait! I know… I was just with him… and I err- I came to see you…"

She opened the door again and stared at me. I glanced around a bit nervously.

"Oh! Um… come in…" She said.

I entered.

"Why did you yell like that when you opened the door?" I asked as she began heading up the stairs.

"It was nothing," She said quickly.

I began following her. "You don't have to lie to me. I can see through that kind of thing, you know."

"It's not lying! It's keeping someone's nose out of another's business!" She snapped, heading towards her room door.

"Did someone make you angry?"

She opened the door to her room and walked in crossing her arms. "A man… OH! THAT MAN!" She screamed. "HE THINKS HE CAN JUST WALTZ UP TO MY DOOR, PLAY ON MY MONEY TROUBLE, OFFER ME A JOB ALL KINDLY AND THE LIKE, THEN WAIT UNTIL I AGREE TO TELL ME IT'S A SINGING AND DANCING JOB AT THAT BLASTED MOULIN ROUGE!"

"What!" I responded in surprise. The only ones I knew of who were even thinking of opening it were back with Scott, and there was no way any of them would have gotten here before I did.

"That little rat!" She screamed. "Who did he think I am! Coming up to my door and acting all noble in his little suit and that greasy blonde hair and that thin little mustache! Oh, I am so infuriated, I COULD--- Oooh… I could do so much…"

I felt my whole body freeze up. In my entire lifetime, I'd only seen one man that fit that description.

"The Duke!" I cried, unable to keep my realization inside.

"What?" She turned around and stared at me as if I was insane.

"It was the Duke…!" I explained. "He mistook you for somebody else! He thought you were Satine!"

She was silent for a moment, her jaw hanging open, a new fury burning in her eyes.

"Satine.. SA-TINE! OF COURSE!" She yelled, flailing her arms in the air. "EVERY TIME! HOW MANY TIMES AM I GOING TO BE COMPARED TO THAT CAN-CAN DANCING, LOVE SELLING, PROSTITUTE! WHY, OF ALL PEOPLE, THAT ONE! I DON'T WANT TO BE COMPARED TO A DIRTY STREET DOG LIKE THAT!"

My entire chest ached, and my mouth was dry from what she was saying. Can-can dancing… love selling… prostitute…dirty…street…dog… My eyes were starting to well up.

"WHY COULDN'T I BE COMPARED TO SOMEONE WHO WAS GOOD FOR SOCIETY! WHY AM I COMPARED TO A SKANK FROM THE MOULIN ROUGE! WHY-"

"**_STOP!_**" I screamed, tears slipping down my cheeks.

She looked in my direction and silenced immediately, amazed by my tears.

"You're… You're wrong!" I sniffled. "You're WRONG!"

"W-"

I didn't giver her time to speak. "You didn't even know her!" I bellowed. "How dare you judge her that way! She may have sold her love to men…but it wasn't because she enjoyed being a so-called 'skank'! She wanted to become an actress--- a real actress! -and it was the only way she could get there! She was a beautiful person on the inside and out, and she----" I choked. "--and….she…"

I threw Scott's book to the floor. "IT'S IN THE DAMNED BOOK!"

"I-"

"You think you're so miserable, just because that man next door didn't want you! I don't know why anyone would! You're opinion on people is terrible! You have some man push you off one time, and the world comes crashing down on you! Even though you know that you can have any man you want!"

She continued to stare at me unblinkingly.

"You don't understand what I've been through! You don't understand how putting Satine down like that…" I let out a whimper that was uncontrollable. "You.. YOU'RE NOTHING LIKE HER! I can't believe I ever even thought… that my dream had come true… but now I see…"

"See---?" She whispered fearfully.

"TODAY IS THE DAY WHEN DREAMING ENDS!" I bellowed and left the room, bolted down the stairs, and out the door.

"MONSIEUR CHRISTIAN!" She cried, but I wouldn't turn around… not anymore…

-

By the time I made it back to my garret, I was almost inconsolable. I leaned against my door, sniffing.

I then screamed out, and in a fit of grief, kicked all the empty bottles in the corner, stamping on them to make sure they broke. I slammed open my door again, and, wiping the tears from my eyes, went to the nearest Absinthe bar and bought five bottles without even realizing it.

By the time I returned home, I had already drank half of the first one, but oh no, I wasn't done. I had to destroy the thought. I had to forget… I had to go off into my own little pretend land where everything was all right.

I sat up against my bed and began drinking bottle after bottle straight, for I no longer had a glass available.

I could hear the Green Fairy's evil cackle echoing in my ears as I dwindled farther down the second bottle, her gruff voice whispering thoughts of suicide.

By the time I finished half of the third bottle, I couldn't lift it correctly to make it to my mouth anymore… and I was happy, for now I was forgetting. I laid down on the floor and began laughing gleefully as tears slipped down my face. Yes… I was free from Satine's voice in my head… but now… -now… I couldn't rid myself of the Green Fairy…

I watched the half-bottle of Absinthe pouring out in front of me and slipping into the cracks of the floor and sniffled. I wasn't sure if I was actually laughing, or if I was crying and it sounded like laughing, but whatever I was doing… it wasn't thinking of her… I truly began to wonder… if I could go on without her… and that was when I came to full realization…

Too much love… was killing me…

The Green Fairy spoke in an undertone that was scaring me witless. "Poor penniless sitar player… His sweet little courtesan is gone… and she's never… coming… BACK!"

"SATINE!" I screamed, and the world went black around me. "Sa… tine…"

Back at Scott's home… Selene had picked the book up off of the floor. She sat down on her bed, and began to read.

_The Moulin Rouge… a nightclub… a dance hall and a bordello…ruled over by Harold Zidler… A kingdom of nighttime pleasures… where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld…The most beautiful… of all these… was the woman I loved… Satine…a courtesan…She sold her love to men…They called her "The Sparkling Diamond" and she was the star…of the Moulin Rouge…The woman I loved… is…_

_Dead._

(A/N: That was a rather interesting chapter, huh? The Duke returns! Poor Christian's so torn up… Oh, by the way, I've finished the cover to this story, and it's got the Duke, Zidler, the Bohos, Christian, Selene, and Scott and co. on it! W00t! Here's the link, **but don't forget to remove the spaces! **http / www . Deviantart . Com / deviation / 20877246 /


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The sun rose upon the city of Paris, and I still lay unconscious in my floor.

At the home of Selene and her family, Scott had arrived early that morning, greeted rather smugly by Joseph.

"Where have you been?" He asked.

"I fell asleep while I was working on a new play at the Rouge House," Scott said sleepily, yawning. "I've only had two hours of sleep, so please wait before you tell on me… okay?…"

"I'm not going to tell on you," Joseph said. "I don't really care what you do anymore…"

Scott pouted.

"Your friend Christian came by yesterday," Joseph said, walking up to the piano and sitting at the stool. "He and Selene went up to her room, and she hasn't been down since."

"Really?" Scott said, smirking. "I didn't think it would go so fast, but-"

"What are you talking about?" Joseph moaned. "You know, your friend left a few minutes after he got here."

"Huh?" Scott exclaimed, doing a double take. "-but-"

"They were both crying, and Margaret and I heard loud voices through the floor," Joseph began practicing his piano.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Scott cried in shock.

"-and since you weren't here, I had to cook breakfast for Margaret and myself, and she wouldn't eat it, and I burned myself---"

Scott wasn't listening. He bounded up the steps two at a time and to Selene's bedroom door.

"SELENE!" He screamed. "SELENE, WHAT DID YOU DO!"

There was no answer.

"SELENE! You can't ignore me like this! How could you hurt Monsieur Christian like that! O-or did he hurt you! What did he say, Selene! You have to tell me!"

From within the room, she turned another page in the book. Selene hadn't heard a word that Scott had said.

_All night, the penniless sitar player had waited… and now, for the first time, he felt the cold stab of jealousy…_

_"Where were you last night?" _

_"I told you…I was sick…"_

_"You don't have to lie to me…"_

_"…we have to end it…Everyone knows… Harold knows… Pretty soon the Duke will find out too. On opening night, I have to sleep with the Duke… and the jealousy will drive you mad…"_

Selene's eyes drifted slowly over the words, soaking everything in.

_"Then, I'll write a song! A-and we'll put it in the show, and no matter how bad things get, or whatever happens, whenever you hear it or sing it or whistle it or hum it, then you'll know, it will mean that we love one another…"_

_"Things don't work that way, Christian… we have to end it…"_

Selene's eyes widened as she read the next passage, and she felt her cheeks flush slightly. In her head, she could hear it almost as if he was standing right next to her, singing.

_Christian:_

_Never knew… I could feel… like this…_

_Like I've never seen the sky… before…_

_Want to vanish… inside your kiss…_

_-_

I felt cold…

I quite obviously hadn't passed out in my bed, and I couldn't remember just how much I had drank. All I knew was that it felt as if someone was standing inside of my head and jabbing daggers into my eyes and forehead over and over again.

I unwillingly opened my eyes to the much too bright room and rubbed uncomfortably. As I rose to my knees, my stomach lurched, and I lunged for the bucket against the wall.

I barely managed to get my face over it before I emptied the contents of my stomach into it.

My head began pounding even worse than it had before, and I moaned. When I tried to stand, my legs shook, so I instead crawled across the floor and back to my bed. Hair of the dog that bit me wasn't going to work this time, hence I decided to try to sleep it off.

Just as I collapsed onto my mattress, I heard a knocking on my door. "Go away…" I murmured weakly.

More knocking.

I put my pillow over my head and groaned. "GO AWAY…!"

"HELLO?" A voice called through the door. I recognized that voice… It was Scott's friend, Smoke.

I sighed, defeated, and got to my feet, trudging across the floor. My stomach was lurching, but I refused to make my head hurt even worse than it already did.

I opened the door a crack and peeked out. "What?" I more stated than questioned.

"Scott told me to bring this script he started by your house why he went to get some sleep," Smoke said, lowering his shades to reveal his chocolate-brown eyes as he held up a bunch of papers. "He wanted you to look over it and fix mistakes and stuff… but you really don't look up to it…"

"No, no," I lied sleepily. "I-I'm fine…"

"Bloodshot eyes," Smoke said smartly. "So, the Green Fairy came and smacked you around a little last night, did she?"

I glared at him and opened the door to let him in.

"Wow… Look at this mess…" He said, walking in and staring at all the broken glass, spilled Absinthe, unmade bed, paper balls, and bucket full of the contents that previously were in my stomach. "-and I thought I was a slob…"

I shut the door and turned around. "I'll clean it up later…"

He looked over his shoulder at me. "Not an alcoholic…"

I was taken aback slightly and sputtered wordlessly.

"I… I'm not!" I finally stammered.

Smoke gave me a 'yeah, sure' look and set the script on my desk. "Just give it a read when you get back up to speed. Oh… and I suggest you stop drinking that stuff… According to the broken bottles, you're a violent drunk."

"I was just angry," I murmured.

"If you were sober when you did this, then that's even worse," Smoke said.

"I wasn't!" I cried in defense.

"Alcoholic," He said.

He'd cornered me like a rat in a maze.

"Look, I'm really tired, so if you would, please get out," I sighed.

"Of course," Smoke said, heading towards the door. "Just think about what I said…" He was then suddenly up in my face. "Scott really looks up to you, and I don't want him going the wrong way. He's an innocent little boy, and I can't let him become one of those men on the streets."

"You act like I've got a real problem-"

"Maybe you should open up your eyes, penniless sitar player… Scott, just like my other friends, are the only family I have, and I don't want anything bad to happen to any of them," Smoke said, dropping his cigarette and stepping on it.

I didn't say anything.

He turned on his heel and left.

I stood there, speechless, staring at the door. Surely I wasn't being blind to myself. That was crazy talk, surely! After all, if I had a problem, I would notice it!

My eyes traveled around the room, noticing the disarray my garret was in… Maybe… I did have a problem… but I was just trying to forget…

My thoughts were interrupted when I emptied my stomach into the bucket once again. This was getting old… fast…

-

Back at Scott's home, he had just about given up on retrieving his sister, for not once did she answer his calls. He eventually walked into his, Joseph's, and Margaret's room and laid down for a long nap.

Selene, meanwhile, was still sitting on her bed… reading…

"_You're dying, Satine…you're dying…"_

"_Another trick, Harold?"_

_"No, my love… The Doctor told us…"_

_"Marie?"_

_Marie stared at Satine, a broken-hearted look within her aged eyes._

_"I'm dying…"_

_Satine:_

_I was a fool… to believe…_

_A fool… to… believe…_

_It all ends… today…_

_Yes, it all… ends… today…_

_"Send Christian away…Only you can save him."_

_"He'll fight for me."_

_"Yes, unless he believes you don't love him…"_

_"What?"_

_"You're a great actress, Satine…Make him believe you don't love him…"_

_"No…"_

_"Use your talent to save him. Hurt him… Hurt him to save him. There is no other way…The show must go on, Satine… We're creatures of the underworld… We can't afford to love…"_

_Satine:_

_Today's… the day…_

_(and Zidler) When dreaming… _

_Ends…_

Selene blinked several times, trying to ignore the tears, and turned the page.

-

I laid in bed with my bucket on the floor next to me, eyes closed. I felt terrible… worse than ever before… I couldn't remember what made me drink all of that Absinthe, which I supposed was a good thing, since it would apparently make me drink. At least my headache was beginning to subside, and that would probably mean I was done vomiting as well.

Suddenly, it all began to come back to me. I was at Scott's house… Selene… The Duke… Satine was being insulted… I'd stormed out and in a fit of rage destroyed the empty bottles and chugged down a load of Absinthe…

…and I was miserable again…

I pulled my blanket up over my shoulder and began forcing myself not to think about it. I had to tough it out. I only wished that there was a woman's soft, loving arms to hold me and assure me that I was going to be all right… but my only companion was a throbbing head and my grief for love and lost… but I would not let the bottle of Absinthe down on the floor be my companion today. I was out to prove a point. I was NOT… I was not an alcoholic!

…Even if the bottle seemed to get more and more appealing the more I thought about what had happened… The buzz helped a lot in forgetting things…

I rolled over and looked away from the floor, shut my eyes once more, and started to force myself into sleep.

I needed to remember that thinking was bad for me…

-

Selene turned another page in the book.

_"Satine?"_

_Satine began coughing heavily, then collapsed. I caught her and held her close to me. "Satine, what's the matter!" I exclaimed, horrified. "Tell me… Tell me what's the matter…" My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was having trouble breathing over the lump in my throat. I could feel a panic settling in my chest as I suddenly cried out. "Oh, God…SOMEBODY GET SOME HELP!"_

_"Fetch the doctor!"_

_"I… I'm sorry, Christian… I…I… I'm dying…I'm so sorry…" Satine whispered weakly._

_"Shhh, you'll be all right… You'll be all right," I muttered, more trying to convince myself than anyone else in the room._

_"Hold me…" She said softly, and I pulled her into an embrace, tears brimming and falling over my cheeks._

_"I… I love you," I said, my voice cracking slightly._

_"You've got to go on, Christian…" _

_"No…"_

_"Yes, promise me… promise me…"_

_Her breath was becoming shorter and shorter._

_"No…" I whimpered._

_"I'll always… be with you…"_

_With those final words, I felt her fall limp within my arms. I felt something in my chest explode, and I screamed and sobbed and held her to my chest, but the pain wouldn't go away… and everyone watched in silence… No one could say anything…_

_Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months… Then, one not so special day, I went to my typewriter, sat down, and I wrote our story…A story about a time… A story about a place…A story about the people…but most of all…a story about…love… a love that will live…forever…The End._

Selene's eyes were red, and her makeup was running down her face as she shut the book and sat it down next to her, hugging her knees and whimpering softly to herself.

"Get up, Scott! I'm hungry!" Joseph's voice through the wall knocked her out of her daze.

"Go on! I don't cook any better than you!" Scott's sleepy voice moaned.

"Get up!" Joseph yelled.

"Geh up!" Margaret copied gleefully.

Selene stood and trudged to her mirror, wiping at her cheeks with her hand, then burst out of the room, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it.

Scott emerged from the room with a worried look on his face. "Selene!" He ran to her and took her waist (since he was short after all). "I've been so worried, are you all right?"

"I-I'm fine," She said, smiling. She turned then and headed towards the stairs.

"Were you ill? Bedridden? What did he say to you?"

The last question made her freeze.

"I'm sorry, who?" She asked rather meekly.

"Monsieur Christian…"

"Oh! Oh…" She chewed on her lip, watching Scott from the corner of her eye. "It's nothing… It's nothing… Don't worry about it…"

"-but-"

"What would you like for dinner, Joseph?" She asked.

"Anything," He said, practically drooling.

Scott watched her turn her back and leave, eyes wide.

Selene headed down the steps, turning at the bottom with her hand on the banister.

"What do I do…? What do I do?" She muttered, stopping and chewing on her thumbnail. "I feel so guilty… She really wasn't-"

"Selene!" Scott was heard as he jumped the last two steps.

"Scott!" She turned to him.

"Yes," He responded. "That's me."

"Uh-um… err…" Suddenly, her mouth was dry.

"Yes?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Where… is…" She stammered.

"What? Potatoes? Bread?"

"Ch… Christian!" She finally spit out.

He stared at her in surprise. "Why?"

"I… I need to… -to-err… speak with him… I… that is…" She sighed. "I need to apologize to him for something I said."

"He's probably at his house…" Scott said. "What did you-"

"You know, I think I'll go take a bath. How about you get some money and take your brother and sister out to dinner, hm?"

"-but-"

She rushed back up the steps before he could say anything.

"You heard the woman," Joseph said, carrying Margaret down the stairs on his back.

"Yeah… right…" Scott murmured, watching where she had gone. "…but doesn't she need to know where Monsieur Christian lives first?" He shrugged and left to get the money for dinner.

-

By the time I awoke, it was dark outside, and I was only stirring because of yet another knock on my door. My headache was gone, and my stomach was no longer queasy, so I wasn't as angry when I opened the door.

"Hi," Smoke said simply.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Well, I thought about it… and it seems you could use some cheering up. Let's go."

"Go? Go where?" I asked as he walked in and grabbed my coat.

"A party," He said. "A bohemian party is being held in one of the bars down the street. I don't know where Scott is, and Ying and Yang are already there selling paintings, so I came to get you instead."

"E-excuse me? What makes you think that I--- What about that girl, Black Cherry?"

"She's making costumes to sell at the party. She'll meet with us later. It's going to be a blast, I promise."

"-but I---" He threw my coat at me.

"You want to know the truth?"

"Yes," I responded.

"I'm playing tonight for money to open the Moulin Rouge, and since Scott has gone missing, I wanted you to sing my songs," He said.

"Well, I guess I---"

"Don't worry, I'll give you a fair cut of the pay."

"I suppose I could---"

"Great, let's go then!" He cried, running out the door. Thank goodness he didn't drag me like Scott did. I was beginning to feel like a dog on a leash with him around.

(A/N: --sighs dejectedly-- Is anyone even reading this?)


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Before Smoke and I had even arrived at the party, I knew where it was located. There was loud music and different colored lights that shined out through the darkness. As we drew close to the building, I could see three men playing a drinking game, a couple making out, and one guy practicing a technique in which he juggled violins, and all of that was only on the outside.

I was beginning to feel uneasy about all of it as we entered. The building was crammed with people on all three floors and the roof. People were dressed in all sorts of whimsical, colorful costumes that looked to be from all over the world. Hair styles were done in just about the same fashion, and they were all dancing. Many of them were dancing rather sexually… of course, rather was putting it lightly.

"YEAH!" Smoke cheered, lighting a cigarette off of someone's hat that was decorated in candles. "This is what I'm talking about. Hurry, let's get up onto the stage."

"We're going now!" I yelled over the noise.

"Not yet! I've just got to let them know I'm here!" Smoke replied. "If you don't want to go, I'll catch up with you in a little while!" He blew into the air a long swig of smoke. "NOW! EVERYBODY!" He screamed over the crowd. "CAN YOU CAN-CAN!"

The whole crowd began cheering wildly as he clambered onto the small stage in the back of the room. "THEN, SHOW ME HOW YOU CAN-CAN!" He screamed, banging on the piano.

I looked at him up on the stage, my eyes wide with fright. I was mortified.

"EVERYBODY! CAN-CAN!" He screamed, and suddenly, I was in the middle of violent swishing of long skirts and men's top-hats being thrown into the air. Everyone was dancing to Smoke's and the other band member's music. Suddenly, I was pinned up against the wall as three women danced around me.

I moved out of the way and sat down at a table, letting out a relieved sigh as I watched the others.

"What's the matter, little boy?" A sensual voice caught my ears. "You look so lonely…" I turned my head quickly to look at the person who had apparently been occupying the table before I sat down. It was a woman with blonde hair that was pulled up in a strange style that was full of pins and needles and dressed in lingerie of turquoise blue. She was a bit older than me, and had too much make-up decorating her face, all blue.

"Um… actually, I was just leaving," I muttered nervously, smiling at her as I started to get up.

"Oh… poor baby… what's the matter?" She grabbed my wrist.

"Ah… I…" I stuttered uncomfortably. "Um… I have something I have to do…"

"Come on… don't you want to dance…?" She batted her long eyelashes at me.

"I… err…"

Before I could say another word, she'd hoisted herself up and hauled me out onto the dance floor. I just stood there in shock, wondering how I possibly got back out onto the floor so quickly and why this strange blonde woman was---- feeling me up!

That was when I realized that the entire floor was doing the same thing. The men were standing and letting the women run their hands up their bodies. Then, the girls thrust themselves against the men, threw one arm around their neck, and forced (well forced me anyway because I didn't want to move) the men into a spin.

"So… what's you're name, honey," The woman asked in a lusty voice, very close to my ear.

"Ah… mm…" I choked. I didn't want to give out my name. I wanted to get away from her. I wasn't stupid. I knew what she wanted from me, and I still had the dignity within me to turn down love-making unless it was with someone I loved!

"There you are!" I heard from behind and was snatched away.

I turned to see Smoke in front of me, looking back at the other woman. "I owe you one later tonight, doll face," He yelled back to her. She winked at him and went off to find another target.

"Oh, my God, thank you so much," I gasped, realizing that up until that point, I hadn't been breathing.

"Why? She's great in bed, or at least I thought so…" Smoke said. "-but enough about me. Let's get started on money-making."

"Where is-"

"Ying and Yang are on the roof. Black Cherry's selling on the second floor."

Before I could ask more questions, we were up on the stage, and everyone had stopped dancing and begun staring at us.

I felt fear creeping in and settling over my shoulders. "What are you wanting me to sing!" I whispered fiercely.

"Songs from your book, of course. It's what got people interested in the Moulin Rouge in the first place!" He whispered back.

"-but-"

"Don't worry… I won't make you sing "Come What May", I promise," He replied.

"I'd do it if I had someone to sing it with…" I murmured, which was true, but it was a certain someone in particular.

"Let's start out with "Your Song", all right?" Smoke said, turning towards the crowd.

"I-"

"GOOD EVENING, LADIES AND GENTS!" He cried out. "Having fun, are we?"

The crowd screamed out excitedly in response.

"Well," Smoke said. "I'm glad that you're enjoying yourselves and letting your bohemian spirit run free… but don't you think this place is a bit small?"

Everyone cheered again.

"Well, that's why I'm asking for your help. I have a dear friend of mine here who is going to sing for you guys, but I'm hoping you give us some money for donations… You see… we're going to REOPEN THE MOULIN ROUGE!"

-and everyone went nuts.

"-and here with me tonight is the author of the book with the same title!" Smoke yelled, and the crowd went wild. "He's singing a few selections from the book to help us out, so give Christian a hand!"

They cheered and clapped and started yelling out requests. I just nodded shyly and mouthed a thank you. The crowd got more and more wild as Smoke sat down at his piano, and even he seemed shocked at all the noise. It was as if he didn't know what to do. So, I did what I figured would work. I did what I came to do.

Christian:

MY GIFT IS MY SONG!

Silence.

Christian:

-and this one's for you…

And you can tell everybody…

That this is your song…

It may be quite simple but…

Now that it's done…

I hope you don't mind

I hope you don't mind

That I put down in words…

How wonderful life is…

Now you're in the world…

Smoke began playing piano.

Christian:

Sat on the roof…

And I kicked off moss…

And some of these verses, well, they…

They got me quite cross…

But the sun's been kind…

While I wrote this song…

And it's for people like you that…

Keep it turned on…

So excuse me forgetting…

But these things I do…

You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue!

And well the thing is…

What I really mean…

Yours are the sweetest eyes

I've ever seen!

-and you can tell everybody

This is your song

It may be quite simple but…

Now that it's done…

I hope you don't mind

I hope you don't mind

That I put down in words…

How wonderful life is…

NOW YOU'RE IN THE WORLD!

Everyone praised me gleefully, and I just stood there, frozen. My heart was aching again, and I longed for a glass of Absinthe.

"That was brilliant!" Scott yelled to me over the crowd. "Look at all of that!" He pointed to the floor.

I looked down and was speechless when I saw all of the money that was tossed, and was still being tossed, onto the stage. I'd never been paid for my performance like that. I glanced up at the fans who were all screaming gleefully.

Smoke started into a piano opening and turned to me, grinning. As he and the band finished the intro, he started to sing.

Smoke:

Roxanne…

You don't have to put on that red light…

Walk the streets for money…

You don't care if it's wrong or if it is right…

Tonight was definitely shaping up to be interesting.

-

Selene had meanwhile taken a bath and cleaned herself up, then went into her bedroom and put on her makeup, then looked through the dresses she owned. She frowned and sighed, realizing that all of her good dresses needed to be washed.

So, instead, she retrieved the blue one that she had worn before and slipped it on. She struggled to tie her corset without any help, but after she had gotten it so tight that she could hardly breathe, she headed down the stairs and out the front door.

"I must apologize to Christian…" She told herself. "I've never felt so guilty in my entire life… I shot down the woman he loved so dear…" She blinked back her tears again.

It wasn't long until she was standing in front of the Moulin Rouge glancing around for the garret that had been written about in the book. The dark shadow of the windmill seemed reminiscent of what it once was. She could almost hear the voices echoing over the horizon, but she shook it off and spotted the garret.

"That has to be it," She said, heading in that direction, only glancing back a few times at the empty nightclub.

She did not know that someone had seen her pass it, that someone was standing under the doorway watching her. The Duke smiled his rat-like smile as he saw her disappear into the darkness. Francis Cardigan was standing next to him, smoking a cigarette and nearly choked when he saw her.

"Her?" He cried.

"-but of course," The Duke said, looking at him. "She will be the star as she once was."

"You're telling me that she… was the "Sparkling Diamond"?" Cardigan squeaked, stunned.

"Yes," The Duke said. "-and her past hasn't walked out on her…"

"Do you think she'll do it again?"

"She is all alone. Her heart is fragile."

"She told me that she loved me awhile ago. She doesn't seem like the type to fall in love. Courtesans fall in love with everyone, don't they?"

"No," The Duke said, and his voice became bitter. "She fell in love with a damned writer."

"Oh, yeah… but where is he now?" Francis asked.

"I don't know… but it'd be best if he's gone. If I ever see him again, it'll be too soon…"

"Jealous, are we?" Cardigan asked, smirking.

"I am not a jealous man…" The Duke said, turning on him. "-but Satine belongs to me, and I WILL NOT LET A PENNILESS WRITER STEAL HER AWAY!"

"All right, all right!" The other man exclaimed, backing up. "How do you plan to do that?"

"Well, she already agreed to work for me… I'll just have to reel in the fish."

"How do you do that?"

The Duke turned to him. "The right bait."

-

Selene had arrived at my quarters and knocked on the door. Unfortunately, I wasn't in.

She took hold of the knob and turned it slightly, and to her surprise, it opened. "Monsieur Christian?" She called, stepping inside slowly. "Hello?"

Her eyes darted across the room at the mess. "Broken glass… paper balls…" She scrunched up her nose at the sight of the bucket at the side of my bed. "Oh, nasty!" She cried. Then, her eyes met with the spilled Absinthe. "Absinthe?" She questioned. "He can drink this stuff?" She glanced back at the unbroken empty bottles. "Apparently…"

She stepped out onto the balcony and stared out, a light breeze blowing back her hair. "I guess he isn't here…" It was then that she saw the bright lights down the street. "Well, I do owe him… so…" She turned around and stared at the mess, rolling her sleeves up. "Let's make this place look like a home and not a dump!"

-and with that, she began picking up the mess that I'd gotten so used to that I failed to notice.

-

The party raged on, long after I'd finished my performances. Despite all the requests, I had managed to make up some good excuses not to sing "Come What May". My number one reason was that Satine wasn't around to sing her part… and it was true, but that wasn't really my number one reason. I knew darn well that I couldn't get through it. I certainly wasn't going to be stupid and try. Even hearing the song drove me to Absinthe. I couldn't even imagine what I would do if I had to sing it.

There was another thing bugging me now that I was off the stage and Black Cherry (who had somehow found her way through the crowd) was belting out her own version of "Lady Marmalade", it seemed that there were a lot more females at the party than before. I was probably just imagining that though. It only looked that way since they all were gathered around me!

I was being pulled this way and that being asked to dance, and others were tailing me and telling me how they wished they could be loved by a man like me. Some were flirting… well, most if not all of them were flirting with me since by other men's standards (according to them at least) I had to of been the best lover on the planet. I myself found that impossible, since I only lost my virginity a year ago with Satine, and I'd never been with a woman since. Even so, it was still a pretty good compliment, so I wasn't open for complaints. I was too busy answering questions and turning down dances anyways.

Pretty soon, I found myself at the Absinthe bar with my head on the table, gasping for air (I had to run all the way across the dance floor with women hanging onto my arms after all).

"I don't know how those ladies men do it," I breathed to the bartender, an older man with an oversized, gray mustache. "I just want to be left alone."

"You just don't have the spirit. You need to get in the game, Monsieur," The bartender said happily, setting a glass of Absinthe in front of me. It made a large CLUNK noise against the table, and I looked up the glass from my spot on the table, halfway appalled, halfway relieved. "This'll give you a buzz."

"I know what it does," I said flatly. "If you read the book, you'd know I've drank it before."

"Sorry, Monsieur, but my old eyes can't read very well anymore," The bartender said, beaming.

I glanced over at my shoulder, seeing the street whores and bohemian can-can dancers giggling and waving at me.

I grabbed the glass and downed the whole thing in an instant. For once I wasn't dreaming to get Satine off my mind. I was somewhat hoping that I would pass out and Smoke or someone could drag me home. After looking at where the door was, and where I was, I'd already calculated that it was quite impossible to get out on my own. "Another," I said, setting the glass down heavily.

"Right away, sir," The bartender said, spilling another mesh of green liquid into the glass.

-

A few hours passed by, and Selene had finished cleaning up the bottles, the buckets, the bedspreads, and the bathroom. All that was left was the discarded paper that was thrown over the shoulder in the long nights when I had tried to write. It saddened her that every time she straightened out the paper and read the typing, that everything I had tried to write started out nice enough, but soon enough just melded back into the same old story.

She tossed each one of them out with the rest of the trash, swept the floor of the dirt particles brought in by my shoes and the small spare pieces of glass, then she dusted all the furniture, straightened the curtains, fluffed the pillows, adjusted the stack of blank papers, and even placed the bottles of Absinthe that weren't spilled or broken or drunken into a cabinet across from my bed.

She let out a sigh of relief as she pushed her sleeves back around her wrists and smiled in satisfaction. "Honestly, men can be such sloppy pigs. What would they do without women?" She turned and walked out onto the balcony, leaning against the wall. "It's so nice out tonight. It's the perfect evening for couples… I guess it's not so great after all…"

My voice apparently was haunting her thoughts. _"You think you're so miserable, just because that man next door didn't want you! I don't know why anyone would! You're opinion on people is terrible! You have some man push you off one time, and the world comes crashing down on you! Even though you know that you can have any man you want!" _

Her eyes became downcast at the thought of the words. "He was right… Who would want someone like me? I'm a horrible person.

_"TODAY IS THE DAY WHEN DREAMING ENDS!"_

She blinked slowly and sighed. "I could never do enough to fix what I've messed up. I don't deserve to love…"

Selene:

Today's… the day…

When dreaming….

Before she could finish, however, the door burst open. The room was suddenly filled with dancing and singing bohemians carrying bottles and cups. She stayed on the balcony, staring to the inside, overwhelmed by the suddenness of the situation.

"What in the… What is…"

Smoke was helping me through the door moments later, since I was a bit intoxicated… Of course, THAT was the understatement of the century (then again, the century had just started, so I had a good chance of not always being number one). According to what I'd heard, I was babbling on about how much I hated the Green Fairy who had apparently been sitting on my shoulder.

"We LOVE YOU ALL!" Black Cherry cried over the crowd. "You guys are the greatest! We'll reach our goal in no time! Just wait until our penniless poet finds out!"

The crowd cheered wildly once more.

"We're very grateful!" Ying and Yang said, walking on their hands to impress the crowd.

I laughed, rambling onto Smoke about how great it was to be in the year 1899 and that these bohemians should come to the Moulin Rouge with Toulouse and me. Smoke just smiled and nodded his head, laughing.

"I sure hope they get to come, Monsieur," He said, pushing me up against the wall. "Now just stay there while I go get another cigarette. Then we'll find a quiet place for you to sleep off all that Absinthe, okay?"

I merely laughed a reply, interested in the sparkling designs I was imagining on my ceiling. My drunken sighted eyes spotted Selene staring at me from the balcony, looking to shocked for words. I smiled and stumbled over to her.

She had to grab me before I walked clear off the balcony, and then she slammed me against the wall.

"Monsieur! What is going on!" She cried. "Monsieur Christian!"

"Come now, baby, it's just Christian, you know!" I said, giggling. "Where have you been? I think you would've loved the party, Satine."

"Party?… SATINE? I'm not-"

"I was looking all over for you, you know. I thought you were there, but you weren't, and then Toulouse brought me home-"

"I'm not Toulouse!" Smoke cried from inside the house, not angrily, but in a voice that made his point clear. "C'mon! I'm no gnome if you know what I mean!"

A few girls went on about how tall Smoke was.

"Christian, you… You're drunk!" Selene cried.

"You act as if this hasn't happened before," I said, smiling stupidly at her. "I got so upset when you went away… By the way, what year is it?"

She stared at me, revolted. Then, before I was even aware of it, she backhanded me across the face. I staggered slightly and reality set in. I stared at her dumbly for way too long, then, to continue my stupidity, I said, "Selene?"

"I can't believe I ever felt sorry for you," She said, walking quickly towards the door of my garret.

"Selene, wait!" I cried, chasing after her.

"Go get her, lover boy," Smoke said not looking at me from my desk, where he was playing poker with Ying and Yang.

"You lose," They both said, setting out winning hands.

"Not again," Smoke said.

I rushed down the stairs after her, but it seemed somehow she was faster than me. At least, that's how I felt until I got to the street and began to catch up with her.

Selene:

I feel stupid

But I know it won't last for long

And I've been guessing

But I could have been guessing wrong

You don't know me now

I kind of thought that you should, somehow

When this old mad season comes around

Christian:

How can you just stand there

Looking like the answer now?

It seems to me, you come around

I need you now!

Selene turned, a surprised look on her face.

"Please," I begged. "Don't be mad… I…I---"

"Don't even start!" She cried. "What do you have to offer me? Why should I even care!"

Christian:

I can only give you love that lasts forever

And the promise to be near each time you call

And the only heart I own

For you and you alone…

That's all….

That's all….

I can only give you country walks in springtime

And a hand to hold when leaves begin to fall

And a love who's burning light

Will warm the winter night

That's all…

That's all…

She turned and took off again, but I caught up with her and turned her to face me. It was then that I realized we were in front of the dark silhouette of the Moulin Rouge.

Selene:

Help me!

I think I'm falling in love again!

When I get that crazy feeling I know

I'm in trouble again!"

I put my arms around her and dipped her back. She placed her hand against my cheek.

Selene:

I'm in trouble

'cause you're a rambler and a gambler

And a sweet-talking ladies man

And you love… you love me…

But not like you love your freedom!

As she sang the word 'freedom' the stars danced down from the sky and lit up the windmill in beautiful colors, bringing it to life as if it had never been unlit.

She pushed me off of her and rushed towards her house again, running this time with flushing cheeks. "NO! Not you! I don't love you! I love---" She cried.

Christian:

When somebody loves you

It's no good unless he loves you… all the way…

She froze mid-step.

Christian:

Happy to be near you

When you need someone to cheer you… all the way…

She started walking, and I walked along behind her.

Selene:

Taller… than the tallest trees…

That's how it's got to feel…

Christian:

Deeper than the deep blue seas…

That's how deep it goes, if it's real…

The stars followed us, sparkling lights around us that flickered brilliantly.

Selene:

When somebody needs you

It's no good unless she needs you… all the way…

Through the good and lean years

And through all the in between years…

She looked over at me from her shoulder, a sad look in her eyes.

Selene:

Come what may…

Christian:

Come what may….

Selene and Christian:

Who knows…

Where the road will lead us…

Selene:

Only a fool would say…

Christian:

-but if you let me love you

It's for sure I'm gonna love you….

Selene and Christian:

All the way…

Christian:

All… the way…

And she was off again. I had to run to keep up with her, for she was doing all she could to not like me at this point.

We arrived at her house before I knew it, and I followed her up the stairs. I kept trying to get her to just listen to me, but it was almost as if she wouldn't have it. I had to do something. "Why am I so special! Leave me alone!" She cried.

She rushed into her room and out onto her balcony, but before she could close herself away from me, I ran up behind her and leaned around her.

Christian:

I've got sunshine…

On a cloudy day…

When it's cold outside…  
I've got the month of May…

I'd guess you'd say

What can make me feel this way?

My girl…

She turned towards me, trying not to smile, but it was apparent.

Christian:

Talking about my girl,

MY GIRL!

Her smile spread across her face.

Selene:

Baby

Look what you've done to me

Ooh, you've made me feel so good inside…

And I just want to be…

Close to you,

You make me feel so Ah-LIIIVE---

As she held out her note, I slowly and quietly sang below her.

Christian:

All you need is love…

Her note faded, and she stared into my eyes with a look full of love. I then finished, barely above a whisper.

Christian:

Love is all we need…

I leaned in close to her, and she shut her eyes, leaning forward and tilting her head slightly… but suddenly, a thought seemed tohave struck her mind.

She pushed me back. "NO!" She cried.

I stared at her, confused for a long time. "What's wrong?" I asked worriedly.

"Nothing, just get out. Get out, just go!" She breathed, shoving me out her bedroom door, slamming it, and locking it behind me.

I heard loud thumps from the stairs, and Scott, Joseph, and Margaret appeared at the top.

"Ah, Monsieur Christian!" Scott said excitedly.

"You sure seem to be doing this a lot lately," Joseph said, crossing his arms.

I just stared at them, embarrassed.

(A/N: You get the jist about the song disclaiming thing, right? Okay then. Whoo, boy, this was a loooong chapter, wasn't it? Fifteen pages… Dang. I've been in a major slump lately, so this is impressive to me. Also, I'm putting up this chapter in celebration of my new Moulin Rouge website, "Above All Things… Love"! Here's the link, but don't forget to remove the spaces! Http / moulinrouge . t35 . com / Feel free to visit! I'm looking forward to it. I plan on putting up lots of fan art for this story there, so look forward to that, and I need submissions of just about anything and everything, so check it out! Toodles!)


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

By the time I had returned to my garret, the party-goers had been cleared out, and not a thing had been tainted or disorganized. In fact, if I didn't know better (which at the time I didn't) I'd say it was in a much better condition than it had been when I had left.

I flopped down on my bed and stared at the dark ceiling, feeling all but accomplished. I'd been turned down, and I was in love. I could feel it in my heart, just as I had when I first saw Satine. I was in love again….

…and it was horrible.

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return… Not being loved in return was quite a depressing feeling. That was the part I hadn't discovered until now. It didn't take much for Satine to return my love, but Selene was (and I never thought it could be possible but) more stubborn than her. I really felt that she liked me for a moment, and suddenly I was out in her hallway.

She could definitely move fast too, I'd give her that. Scott had to be crazy if he actually thought that she… and I…

Little did I know that yes, yes he WAS crazy enough to think that.

As I tried to get a few hours of sleep in before I started thinking of my sad past once again, Scott was sitting in his room with a candle lighting the corner table. He was steadily typing away at his old, dusty typewriter, a sparkle within his eyes. "Christian wrote on what he felt and what he saw… So therefore… I can do it too!" He ripped a page out and placed in a new one. "This play will be the best of the century! This is the story that will bring people mobbing back to the Moulin Rouge. THIS IS BRILLIANCE ITSELF!"

"SHUT UP!" Joseph yelled from his and Scott's bed.

"Oh… sorry…" Scott murmured, shrinking his head onto his shoulders and grinning in embarrassment. As Joseph laid back down, Scott continued working well on into the night until the candle's light blew out.

When daybreak arrived, I was asleep at my typewriter, once again with a blank sheet of paper to go on.

Scott was ironically in the same position, snoring lightly at his house. Next to his residence, in the Cardigan household, the Duke had once again arrived to work out some paperwork.

Sitting at the breakfast table, the discussed various things, just about all of them relating to the empty nightclub and how they were to come across seizing it for their own purposes. Francis Cardigan's horribly ugly fiancée came into the room, setting down a cup of hot tea for her engaged.

"Thank you, dear," He nodded, not really acknowledging her presence.

"Here you are, sir," She said to the Duke as she removed the tea cup and saucer from the tray she had brought it on. Unfortunately, her clumsy hand slipped, and the tea spilled all over the Duke's front.

"AHG!" He cried, standing immediately.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She cried, covering her mouth with her hands. She then tried to clean him up with a napkin.

"This seems to happen more than it should," The Duke complained as Cardigan stood.

"I'll go get you another outfit!" Francis said, looking positively humiliated.

"I'm very, VERY sorry, Monsieur," The woman cried, sobbing melodramatically.

"It-It's all right," The Duke said as Francis emerged with a gray suit and white blouse. It was much lower class than what he usually wore, but it would do until he got home to his other suits.

The Duke stared at it with slight disgust and nodded, taking it.

Next door, Scott blearily arose from his slumber... That is, until he remembered what he had typed up. "Ah, brilliance!" He cried, standing. A few of his slicked back strands of hair fell loose into his face.

"Again?" Joseph cried, rolling his eyes as he looked up from his bed. "Well, at least you waited for morning this time. You don't think that Selene isn't cooking breakfast again, do you?"

It was a stupid question, for Scott could smell the scent of breakfast wafting from the stairs. "I've got to hurry and eat! I need to meet up with the members of the Rouge House!" Scott said, bolting down the stairs.

Selene had just set the breakfast on the table when he appeared and sat down. "GRACE!" He said quickly and proceeded to shoving the entire meal down his throat in one bite.

Selene would normally be angry about this kind of behavior, but she was extremely distracted and didn't even notice.

She sat down at the table and leaned her chin upon her hand, staring off into space.

"Hey, Selene?" Scott said, mouth full of food.

"Wh... What?" She asked, snapping back into reality.

"These eggs are runny…"

She stared at him blankly.

"Eggs…" Scott said after swallowing. "Runny eggs…"

"…Oh! Oh…" She said, staring at his place. "I um…"

"It's okay," He said. "I hate eggs." He pushed his plate which was empty of all but the eggs forward. "The meat was burned too, but it's okay. I cook much worse."

"…What?" She asked. She hadn't been listening to a word he'd said.

"Selene… Are you okay?" He asked, staring semi-concernedly at her.

"I… I'm fine!" She replied, heat creeping into her cheeks. "Fine, fine! Just… having an off morning! Yes, that's it!"

Scott watched her for a moment. "Okay!" He said, then rushed out the door to find his friends, only managing to grab his coat and hat from the hanger on the way out.

She sighed somewhat dreamily and picked up Scott's dishes. "That stupid writer…" She said, carrying it into the kitchen. "Why… can't I get you off of my mind?…"

I had no idea at the time that I could get into someone's head like that… It was quite an interesting trait, and if I wasn't so naive, I probably could have used it to my advantage.

Scott was long gone by the time she returned.

-

Scott's bohemian friends were all in a line with Ying, Yang, Black Cherry, Scott, and Smoke from left to right as they walked down the street, talking quickly. Smoke was wearing a jacket for once, but Black Cherry didn't seem to care that she was still dressed down.

"I really do like this," Smoke said, referring to the pile of parchment that Scott had written his 'brilliance' on. "It's quite captivating, and it has that bohemian feel without it being to copycat. Incredible."

"I think it'll be the show of the century," Scott said. "Just think, if we perform this at the Moulin Rouge, we can sell tickets that will have us living like kings for an entire lifetime! It'll be fantastic! It'll be wonderful! It will be spectacular!"

"Spectacular," Ying and Yang added in.

"Precisely," Scott said. "So, Smoke, do you think you can make some good tunes for it?"

"Since when could I not?" Smoke said confidently. "I'll head home and get to work on it right away."

"See you later then," Black Cherry said.

"Goodbye," Smoke said, turning and walking off.

Black Cherry watched him go, flipped her hair, and looked back at Scott. "I expected you to get the sitar player first, Penniless Poet. Shouldn't you have shown it to him?"

"I didn't want to bother him. He has some things to think about."

"What do you mean?" Ying and Yang asked.

"Well, last night we found him outside Selene's door looking completely lost."

"So?" Black Cherry said, raising her eyebrow.

"Well, I had the worst kind of breakfast this morning. Selene is extremely distracted. I believe something happened last night that hit them both pretty hard," Scott said, fighting back a grin so that he could look concerned.

"Really?" Black Cherry said, her mind racing with ideas. "How about you send Ying and Yang to check on our sitar player while you go check out the stage for the Moulin Rouge and make sure you've blocked everything correctly?"

"Why don't you go see Monsieur Christian?" Scott asked.

"-because I've got costumes to make," She said, turning on her heel and marching away.

"Oh…" Scott murmured. "Well, you heard her. Go!" Scott said, waving Ying and Yang in the direction of my apartment.

"Right-o!" They both said, saluting and zooming off in perfect unison.

Scott went in the direction of the Moulin Rouge. Ying and Yang were headed towards my garret, but Black Cherry… No, she wasn't headed for her costumes at all. She was off to do some dirty work of her own.

-

It seemed I was sleeping at my desk a lot more than I used to. It was fairly stupid for it was uncomfortable, and every time someone arrived I fell out my chair.

"Monsieur Sitar Player!" Ying and Yang cried, swinging open the door without so much as a knock.

I screamed out, stumbling to my feet. I stared at them for a few moments as it registered.

"Good morning," They said.

"Why are you here?" I asked, sliding my hands over my face.

"We came to see if you were all right on orders of Black Cherry and Penniless Poet, sir," They said, staring around the room in wonder.

"All right…?" I questioned sleepily. "Why wouldn't I be all right?"

"Well…" The two of them both rocked back and forth on their heels. "Penniless Poet told us that he saw you outside of his sister's bedroom door yesterday night and just left without so much as a word to him or anyone else. Smoke informed us that he saw you leave with the Penniless Poet's sister before and thinks that maybe she did something to hurt you or perhaps you did something to hurt her or even perhaps that something GOOD came out of it?"

I stared at them blankly. Half of it had gone in one ear and out the other. "…No?" I asked myself.

Ying and Yang looked at each other.

"Is that so?" They asked.

I shifted my eyes suspiciously.

"You need to loosen up," They said.

"Loosen…" I rolled my eyes. "All right, what do you want?"

-

Black Cherry, meanwhile, was well on her way towards the home of her Penniless Poet where his Satine look-alike sister resided. Not even knocking, she opened the door and walked inside.

"Oh, no… it's you," Joseph said bitterly from his and Margaret's spot in the parlor.

"Do you want to pway?" Margaret asked, holding up one of her dolls.

"Not now," Black Cherry said. "You seen your older sister?"

"She's wandering aimlessly around the house, staring off into space," Joseph said.

"Thanks."

Selene was found up in her room, staring out the balcony with a spaced look on her face.

"How's it going?" Black Cherry called out.

"_All you need is love…"_ She sang barely above a whisper, not paying attention. "_Love is all we need…_"

"Hello, anybody home!" She yelled, pounding her fist on the door.

Selene turned around in surprise.

"Lovely day to stare off into universe, huh," Black Cherry said. "Let's talk."

Selene looked at her like she was nuts.

"You heard me," She responded. "Sit down and let me talk to you."

-

I stared out the window, listening to them babble on about Scott's new play that was actually worth the read and how they wanted me to come to the Rouge House and read it for him.

My eyes centered on the large windmill, and their voices slowly faded away while the memories of the dance across the sky and the kiss and… everything slipped in and out of my mind.

Christian:

Who can say for certain?

Maybe you're still here

I feel you all around me

Your memory so clear

Deep in the stillness

I can hear you speak

You're still an inspiration

Can it be…

That you are my

Forever love

And you are watching over me

From up above?

I went off into my own world where I could see Satine, smiling at me and dragging me out for another dance on the clouds.

Christian:

Fly… me up to where you are

Beyond a distant star…

I wish upon tonight

To see you smile…

If only for awhile to know you're there

A breath away is not far

To where you are…

"Monsieur Sitar Player."

-and my world was gone. "Yes?" I asked.

"Surely it's not that bad a plan, is it?"

I had my food firmly placed on the window sill, ready to hoist myself into her arms. That Green Fairy was really out to get me… and I hadn't even had a glass of Absinthe today! I suppose that was why.

I grinned sheepishly and hopped back down. "I'll read it. Sure. Let's go."

"Splendid!" They cheered. "Penniless Poet will be very happy."

I'm sure he would be. If I spit on him, he'd most likely die of happiness.


End file.
